


I Wish, I Found Love

by friendofhayley



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Ableism, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Amputation, Angst with a Happy Ending, Asexual Character, Blasphemy, Bottom Louis Tomlinson, Childhood Friends, Demons, Disabled Character, Fantasy, Fictional Religion & Theology, M/M, Minor Character Death, Quests, Rough Sex, Royal Louis Tomlinson, Sky Pirates, Star-crossed, Suicidal Thoughts, Witch Harry Styles, internalized ableism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:43:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 37,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22850395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/friendofhayley/pseuds/friendofhayley
Summary: A fandom retelling of the Maiden Without Hands.Solace is a land of religious hypocrisy, demons, and two ostracized families. When prophets from every denomination foretell a boy of unknown origin who might change the tide of the magical world, is any place safe for him?Harry and Louis grew up together, two pariahs among their peers. Will their love be able to overcome distance, prophecies, and the trials of finding out who you truly become under pressure?
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Liam Payne/Louis Tomlinson, Niall Horan/Zayn Malik
Comments: 25
Kudos: 77
Collections: HL Royalty Fic Fest 2019/20





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This work was based on a two-sentence prompt about Harry selling magical candles in a Bed and Breakfast and grew into a retelling of one of my favorite obscure Grimm fairy tales. The original Girl with Silver Hands (also known as The Maiden Without Hands) is horribly ableist with heavy religious themes, so I decided to twist it to be as gay and affirming as possible! I also pulled a lot of inspiration from my favorite fairy tale media. Let me know if you can spot the references. The title is from Hayley Kiyoko's song I Wish.
> 
> I do want to give a shout-out to my darling Kayla who always leant a helpful ear when I was in a rough spot, even though she doesn't really know who Louis Tomlinson is or all the context of One Direction. You're awesome and I'm glad we're in each other's fandom-filled lives. xoxo
> 
> Disclaimers: Most of this fic has not been looked over by a beta, so please excuse any errors. If you know the fairy tale, then you already know Louis will lose his hands at a point in this story, making him disabled. There is talk about a religion being corrupt and filled with hypocrisy. I did as much research as possible to be as realistic and inclusive with the language and Louis' experiences. Also all the Danish phrases/words were translated with Google, so all the grammatical errors are their fault.

Once upon a time, in a world much like this one, there was a family. The world this family lived in was enriched with magic, with witches and demons, dragons and pixies, and kings who did more than follow strict dress codes.

In this family’s house, which was bare of everything except love, was a mother and her seven children. There had not always been seven children and the woman had not always been a mother. To some in town, she had never been a mother at all. Those who knew better whispered that she was the new Mother.

In the town square, elders and young alike would whisper about the woman’s activities at night and shunned her by day, as she strolled through the gossip-infested crowds in the bustling and otherwise idyllic streets. Her eldest son, though not immune to the whispers himself, always held her hand in silent and faithful comfort.

The only person in town—although the others whispered that _she_ didn’t belong to the town either—who exchanged words with the mother was the witch.

Anne Twist held onto her youngest son’s hand as she sorted through the bookshop’s wares. She hummed as she examined the shelf containing the ever-diminishing supply of fiction books. She would soon have to venture to the next town in the hopes of another novel. They already lived in a world rich with magic, why was it considered blasphemous to write fiction? The censorship puzzled and frustrated her, and she feared that the situation would only worsen with time.

“Mummy!” Harry whined, tugging her hand and pointing towards the exit. “I want to play in the square!”

Anne sighed. Her son was so soft-hearted, she worried for him at times. The last time he had tried to play with the town children, one of the governor’s boys spat on him and called him a whore’s son. She didn’t know how to explain to her son that there were those who responded to fear of the unknown with mistrust and cold hatred. But alas, she did not want her sweet boy to hate her for being a lover of Circe.

As she made to turn her head from the shelves full of religious propaganda, she heard her son squeal, “Hi! I love your cloak! What’s your name?”

Anne’s breath hitched, ready to pull her son away from inevitable rejection. Prepared to spend the night comforting her crying boy, Anne was surprised to hear an equally excited voice exclaim, “Thanks! The toadstools gave it to me! My name’s Louis.”

Attached to her son’s hand was a young boy with caramel hair, sparkling blue eyes, and a soft smile. Wrapped around him was a velvet, violently-purple cloak clasped together with a gold sun brooch. The clothing looked more expensive than the sum of all the town’s wages. Anne absently wondered how long it would take before one of the thieves stripped his small frame of the treasure. 

Hovering above him, with worried eyes, was Johannah Deakin. All Anne knew about the woman was that she lived on the top of the hill, had a massive brood of children, and was hated amongst the townspeople. 

She couldn’t think of a better person to befriend.

Anne startled as she felt Circe’s whisper, telling her that a prophecy was stirring. She had confided to her children that it felt like the beginning of a sneeze and Harry knew the signs.

Magic flew through her veins, pushing air under her cloak, as Harry led the small group to the back of the store for privacy.

“ _The boy is not natural  
The boy is the end of all things and the beginning of a new land  
But do not be afraid to be offered a hand_”

A supernatural voice, high and unfamiliar, escaped her as tears streamed down Anne’s face. She took a breath as visions raced through her mind, “You will go through so much pain, even as strong as you are.” She reached out a hand before another tremor went through her, stronger this time.

“ _In ten years time, the world will hinge on a gold pin_  
_Make the right choice and do not despair_  
_You can find those who love you everywhere”_

“Also, Circe says the cloak is invisible,” were Anne’s last words before she fainted.

Hours later, after Harry had whisked himself and his mother away, and Louis and his mother figured out how to make his new cloak invisible, Louis stopped his mother from blowing out the last candle.

“What did she mean when she said I was not natural?”

His mother seemed to sigh with her whole body. “I was wondering when you were going to ask that question, my love.” She shut the door and locked it behind her; her new husband didn’t like how much she doted on Louis and would often try to limit their time together. 

Louis knew that people in town whispered about his mum because she had children with multiple men, but whenever he asked her about his own father she always shook her head and said that she would tell him when he was older. 

He wondered if tonight was the night he was finally old enough.

“When I was a wee lass, about twice your age, I went wandering around even though my mum told me not to,” she started. Louis rolled his eyes; he did not need to be lectured for playing in the forest again.

“No, _listen_ ,” her voice steely and firm, “it is time for you to learn who you are. It is time to listen, my son. While I was playing I fell and got my leg stuck in one of the holes…

_Johannah looked around her for something to help her pull her leg out of the hole that had appeared out of nowhere. She hoped that she hadn’t twisted her ankle or she would never hear the end of it from her mother. Girls are not allowed to run or wander—those words were ingrained into her brain. When she grew up, she was going to tell all her daughters to run and wander so they could go farther than any other man._

_She groped behind her and froze when she touched a toadstool. Had she—she couldn’t have. With horror, she discovered that she had fallen on the border of a fairy ring. As that thought came to her mind, she heard the trotting of a horse approaching._

_A large, white-as-snow horse hovered above her, and she recognized it’s rider as the Seelie prince, Zayn of Malik._

_He peered down at her, “So you are the new Mother.”_

_She glared up at him, “I’m sixteen!”_

_“And you are to be the new Mother today, no matter how many moon cycles you’ve seen.”_

_Johannah shifted away, repulsed._

_He made a face, “What? No. I do not have much time before they find out he’s gone.” Prince Zayn uncovered the bundle of clothing in his arms to reveal a babe asleep. Johannah couldn’t help but coo as he sucked on his thumb._

_“He’s not safe here. We do not yet know what he is, although every day since he has appeared, a prophecy has been made about him. It does not matter who they follow—Circe, Hecate, Isis—a different prophecy is made every day. He is special, that much is certain. The council is scared, and what becomes of things the council is scared of...” the prince looked away, trailing off._

_“But last night they prophesied that a girl would fall on the border who would be able to keep the boy safe from harm until his eighteenth birthday.” He hopped down gracefully, his feet so soft the babe did not wake, and offered the bundle to her, his gaze firm yet imploring. “People will hunt him down, either to kill or imprison him. I put a suppression spell on him that will only work until the boy is eighteen, but people who know the prophecies might still be able to find him. I would advise having a lot of children, maybe from a lot of different fathers so they can’t figure out which one is the special one. I don’t know, mix it up.”_

_“Mix it up?” Johannah repeated incredulously, “But God-The-Holiest says you can only procreate with one person after marriage -”_

_“Yeah, the human God-The-Holiest isn’t real—it’s just a ploy to make you all follow orders no matter how insane they are,” the prince said earnestly. He hopped back onto his saddle with an ease that only a magic-welder could possess._

_He paused at the look on her face, “Sorry? I mean it’s not like any of the real gods’ followers are any better, but your god isn’t real. I can tell you that with true sincerity.”_

_He took hold of the reins._

_“Wait!” Johannah stood up, not noticing that the prince had freed her foot out of the hole with magic. “Should I not know what the prophecies about my son say?”_

_Zayn made a face and seemed to consider his response carefully. The woods waited anxiously along with Johannah for his answer._

_“No. I feel like that would be detrimental. But do not worry, I will be there to make sure the child is safe even after he is eighteen, without letting the council know I am involved. I must depart before I am found lingering in places I should not. Good-bye new Mother!”_

_And with that, the prince bolted until he simply vanished into the wind._

“But if I am neither a human nor a Seelie, what am I?” Louis looked down, biting his lip. The worst part about hearing this story was finding out that he was an outsider even to his mother.

As if sensing his thoughts, Johannah took hold of his chin and met his eyes, “You are my son, that’s what you are. And in the end, does anything else matter?”


	2. In Which Solace Comes to Collect...

**Nine Years Later**

Louis tore through the high grass, trying to suppress a fit of giggles that threatened to escape his lips. He stumbled as his purple cloak dragged along the ground in his haste to get away from the house. 

He didn’t remember a time he did not possess the magical relic that grew as he did. His best friend’s mother had insisted he dirty the velvet fabric to deter thieves, but although she burned and dirtied it with mud, nothing could stop the magical cloak from mending itself. It had been stolen multiple times as Louis grew, but every morning after, it would appear on his bedside time and time again. After a while, petty thieves gave up on trying to steal the cloak, although tales of its magic did not help his family's already tarnished reputation. 

And as Louis grew bigger, so did his small town until it became known as the unofficial capital of the land of Solace. The king grew more powerful and so did the religion that enabled him to burn villages to the ground mercilessly. Beings of the magical sort were slowly pushed out, as they were seen as unclean for worshipping their pagan gods.

Stories began to spread around the town of Larchville about the family who lived on top of the hill. Every story was different, twisted from its true origin and contained horrors meant to stir fear in the hearts of children. Some stories said that one of the children was an incubus who had the power to control minds and hearts. Every time they changed who it was, although lately, the town’s consensus had landed on Lottie, who had changed her hair to a sparkling silver shade with the help of Anne.

Louis did not mind the rumors when they were wrong. He knew they drew attention away from the real magical family who lived on the edge of the woods, and their well-being mattered greatly to Louis.

Louis hid behind one of the trees and blushed just thinking of Harry, trying to quell the warmth in his chest. They had been friends since they were little and Louis had treasured the mere fact of having a boy his own age to call a friend. But as they grew older and Harry filled out to match his gangly legs and grew into his voice, Louis had begun to falter when making eye contact with him. 

Louis knew it could never happen, of course. Who would want to wed the eldest boy of the freaky family, cast aside by the rest of society? And even without their stained reputation, Louis’ family were not exactly well-off. Every time one of his new “fathers” left, so did their family income. 

His family was never destitute; every time he or his younger siblings needed something, the item would appear inside one of the toadstool rings. His sisters learned to not question it, but only he and his mother knew why. Still, their current financial and social reputation was not something that garnered many suitors.

Even so, sometimes Louis imagined what marriage to Harry Twist would be like, their wedding and future, which always seemed blissful and untainted in his dreams. Perhaps Harry would make him a crown of bluebells or lilacs. (Of course, he would make Harry an iris crown, each petal highlighted with a hint of gold to match the hidden brightness of Harry’s personality. It would look perfect against his curly shoulder-length hair that often made Louis’ knees weak). He wondered if they would use Anne’s broom or make one themselves to jump over, symbolising their new life together. (Even though just the thought of a pagan ceremony was considered treason, he endlessly made Anne recount the stories of her wedding to her late husband, Robin).

Sometimes, after a bad outing into town, Louis would indulge himself with thoughts of their wedding night. He would imagine Harry’s face, an unbridled smile etched across it, painted with adoration and desire for him, feeling his stomach jump at the thought of being so wanted. 

Those nights were the worst. The mornings after were always tinged with tears on his pillow from the dark taste of the deepest longing of having somebody want him like that.

Now Louis clung to the bark, thoughts of playing hide and seek fleeting from his brain as he transported himself to one of those dangerous daydreams. He was too lost in thought to pick out the figure creeping slowly behind him until it was too late.

“Got you!” Fizzy crowed. “You’re it!”

Louis breathed a sigh of relief. For a moment, a foreboding feeling of dread had passed over him, although he hadn’t had the faintest clue why.

He smirked at his sister as they trudged back to their yard. For now he could just focus on winning hide and seek. He pressed the sun brooch on his cloak and watched Fizzy glare at where his head used to be, as he turned invisible.

“No fair!” Fizzy let out a whine.

“One, two, three...” Louis started, causing his siblings to scurry away towards the woods and the garden.

Perhaps he would never get married, but at least he would always have his family beside him, to support and shield from the horrific rumours and possible attacks.

*

Unbeknownst to Louis, the devil, known as Sy Mon the Undefeated, was walking up the hill with his talkative elf servant trudging behind him.

“I’m just saying, why call the town Larchville if none of the trees are actually larch, ya know? Also, the name is so ugly. _Larch_ ville. Larch _ville_. Like, just call it Larch, why don’t ya? Or at least Larchtown is a little bit better. Actually, I changed my mind, that sounds horrid as well—”

“Will you shut up?!” the demon snapped. “I chained you to my existence so someone could carry my things and drive the carriage so I could nap, not to hear you blabbering nonsense!”

“Rightio, boss!” the blonde servant chirped, nothing about his countenance displaying his complete distaste for his master.

Sy Mon grumbled as they finally made their way to the top of the hill. He rarely ventured out of his parish and the exercise of actually having to put one foot in front of another was making him weary.

He had waited eighteen years for this, right after he had escaped his stint as a spy in the Seelie court. Finally, it was almost time for the prophesied babe to reach maturity, and he was going to make sure the prophecies went their way.

The demon adjusted the clerical collar around his neck just as he spotted the Mother.

Johannah balanced a bucket of water on her hip as she made her way back to her house. She gasped in shock and fell back when a man pushed her against the fence bordering her land.

“You must be the wicked woman of the house,” the priest said, leering at her. “We should have your whole family burned at the stake for your crimes.” 

Sy Mon smiled slowly as he felt the Mother flinch under his arms. She had expected this to happen someday; his plan was already working. He had told the others burning those lovely families would work in their favor.

“We should make you watch as each of your sinful children screams in pain against you before we lead you to the stake.” He paused, eating up the distress in her eyes. “But I am a merciful man of the cloth. I will turn a blind eye if you give me what is behind your house right now.”

He watched in delight as she turned her head to look at her yard to find nothing but her apple tree. He savored the crinkle of confusion between her eyes as she made the connection.

“You would forgive my sins for my apple tree?” she breathed, incredulous.

“I will forgive your family’s sins for what is behind your house.” Demons were excellent at spinning words until they worked for only themselves, and Sy Mon the Undefeated prided himself on having named himself aptly.

“I will give you what is behind my house,” Johannah said, binding the contract between them. 

“Excellent,” he said, licking his lips, letting his glamour fall. Two horns appeared on his head. “I will come back in a fortnight on the boy’s eighteenth birthday to claim his hand in marriage.”

Johannah turned her head back, just in time to watch Louis become visible once more, throwing his head back in laughter too far away to hear. Sy Mon watched in delight as Johannah’s face dropped in distress, as she realized what she had just down.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Sy Mon purred, “if you try to back out with a deal with a demon, you will perish instead. Would you really allow yourself to upset the boy by watching you die?”

Johannah lowered her gaze down in defeat. The boy’s heart was sure to grow resentful in order to grow dark enough for the demon to take him for himself. Sy Mon laughed as he let his horns show; mortals really were too easy to trick.

“Make sure the boy is unwashed the night before his birthday,” he ordered, unaware of the twinkle in his servant’s eyes.

*

Louis trailed his hand along the trees bordering the woods as he made his way to the cottage. He wished for one of the pine needles to prick his fingers just so he could feel _something_. The feelings of emptiness and solitude were overwhelming him and he had to pause, heaving a sigh, just to consider the tangle of his emotions. 

When his mother first told him the news of his impending marriage he had felt breathless, as though a boulder had skidded into his stomach. 

Louis had wept for hours—although it had felt like days—at the thought of marrying a demon. He had pleaded with the old gods, asking Circe why he had been born to fulfill the prophecies of others, against his will and everything he and his mother stood for.

But he had never forgotten the one prophecy he’d heard about himself, spoken from the mouth of his best friend’s mother. Louis supposed he might be foolish for remembering the words, but perhaps this marriage would let him help others. Perhaps this was the first step on his journey to _make the right choice_ , something that would kick start his journey to complete the prophecies.

But even though Louis had released his fears about his marriage, his tears would still not stop. He knew it had been foolish to ever hope of marrying Harry, but as his birthday drew nearer, his reality was slowly shattering his dreams.

And finally, with only two days away from his birthday, he had finally gathered the courage to say goodbye. Louis was not foolish; he knew the demon would try to isolate him to keep him weak and vulnerable. He knew that he would probably never see Harry ever again, a truth that made the bitter taste of tears gather on the back of his tongue. But, he surmised, it was better to accept his fate than be dragged kicking and screaming towards it.

Louis steeled himself as he made his way around the familiar bend of trees that revealed Harry’s home only to gasp. The cottage that he had grown to love, the place he considered his second home, was burned to the ground.

Louis ran towards the rubble, darting through the grass, his breath growing ragged. Where were Harry and Anne? He shuddered at the thought of finding bodies. No. Not now, not after everything, not without a goodbye.

He could feel tears come to his eyes as he spun around in the rubble, trying to find any trace of the Twist family.

“Oh Louis, it’s just you!”

Louis sobbed as he heard a familiar gruff voice and he caught sight of Harry among the trees, who seemed to have lifted an invisibility spell. Running towards him, Louis jumped into Harry’s arms, weeping openly against his chest.

Harry smiled a smile that told of his resignation, his sadness. He looked directly at Louis, his face clear and relieved, revealing the dimples that always made Louis lose his mind. “I’m so glad you came before I left!”

“What?” Louis felt along Harry’s body trying to find any burns or wounds along it. “Where’s Anne?”

Harry’s face dropped, the light that was weaving through the trees reflecting in his pale green eyes. He looked so desperate and exhausted; Louis could only imagine the scene he came back to. “They... found out mum was a witch—the townsfolk. They burned the place while I was out finding some herbs for her. She,” Harry paused, apparently struggling to find the words. “She didn’t make it.”

“No,” Louis breathed. “No!” he yelled, backing up against a tree. He wrapped his arms around himself, rocking backwards and forwards on the balls of his feet, overcome with emotion. Why did everything have to go wrong all at once?

“Mum knew,” Harry said quietly. He smiled softly. “I know she did; she shut herself up in her room a few days beforehand after a talk with Circe. Told me what to do if I ever had to inherit the store.”

He reached for Louis’ hands as he began hyperventilating, “Lou, it’s not like any witch has died peacefully in their sleep at a ripe old age, especially in Solace. Mum knew the stakes and so do I.”

“Where are you going?” Louis asked, his brain barely could catch up with what was happening.

Harry searched his face carefully as if he was trying to memorise it. “Somewhere you cannot follow.” He looked near tears as he looked towards the deep thicket of trees. “I’m sorry, but it’s not safe anymore for me here. I’m sure they’ll come back to finish the job soon and I have to be gone before that happens.”

Harry reached into the pack on his back and revealed a small, wrapped present, “It’s good that you came to find me. I was too scared to give you this, but—happy early birthday.”

Louis took the package with shaking fingers and started to unwrap it.

Harry placed his hand on top of his, “Can I just say beforehand,” he gulped and looked anywhere but Louis, “this present was presumptuous of me, especially given the circumstances. But—”

Louis opened a small box with a glistening ring inside. An opal gleamed in the centre, changing colors as Louis’ eyes grew blurry with tears once more.

“I was going to ask for your hand on your birthday, or at least an outing without a chaperone.” Harry still looked beyond him, shining eyes fixed on a point in the distance. He looked almost overwhelmed. “And then I saw this ring and thought of you and how you shine as brightly as that stone. You’re so unsuspecting, Lou, but you’re so strong. I’ve been in love with you since we were children, I’m sure you don’t feel the same way—”

An audible sob ripped from deep in Louis as he fell to his knees.

“I have been in love with you before I knew what love was,” Louis whispered. His voice was muffled and raspy but he was sure that Harry could hear every word. 

Harry beamed and grabbed his hands, “Come with me! We can go together. I will keep you safe, I—”

Louis looked away, “I’m getting married in two days.”

Harry’s smile fell in an instant. “What?” Harry breathed. “But you love me?”

“Yes, with my whole heart,” Louis whispered.

“Then, let’s run away! We’ll go together,” Harry insisted, tugging his arm.

Louis’ feet felt like roots. “If I don’t marry him, he will kill my mother.”

Harry fell silent.

“I suppose this is goodbye, then” Louis bit back a whimper at the realisation that he had put that distraught look on Harry’s face. “I hope we meet again someday.”

As Harry turned to leave, Louis yelled, “Wait!”

Harry stopped.

“Kiss me.”

The earth grew still as Harry stepped towards him, his eyes mirroring the pain Louis felt. The trees watched in breathless anticipation as Harry stood before Louis. The birds grew silent as he cupped Louis’ cheek and leaned down.

As their lips connected, Louis felt Harry pour the love he carried for him into the kiss, the breathless wonder he felt when Louis confessed his love, and the absolute pain of having to leave his life and Louis behind. In return, Louis’ lips spilled his dreams of spending a life with Harry, the immense love that had overflowed in him since a young age, before he could comprehend what love truly meant, the bittersweet taste of the life he could have had.

“I have to go before sundown,” Harry whispered against his lips. “I will never forget you, Louis Tomlinson, until the day I die.”

“Make sure that day is far from now, Harry Twist,” Louis brushed a tear away from Harry’s cheek. “I will never love another as I do you.”

Harry took his hand one more time and kissed it, “Until the time we next meet, my love.”

*

Louis waited in the garden on the morning of his birthday, fingering the opal on his finger. Lottie had made a last-ditch attempt to save him by drawing a circle of salt around his feet, although he doubted it would work. He hoped his family would be happy after he left, as it was sure to dismiss any magical rumors once he married a man of the cloth. He hoped this marriage would, at least, spare them the pain that was awaiting him.

Sy Mon gasped for air as he trudged up the hill once more, sweat pouring down his forehead as the elf practically skipped ahead of him. 

He chuckled as he saw the salt circle; foolish mortals. Why did they think he had a servant?

“Break the circle,” Sy Mon ordered.

He watched his elf drag a foot along the circle, making the boy vulnerable once again. Sy Mon twitched his tongue out, sniffing the air and smiled as he noted the Mother had made sure the boy was unwashed, yet…

His grin dropped—the boy’s heart was still pure. How had he not grown resentful of his mother trading his hand in marriage to a demon? Sy Mon scratched his neck irritably. No matter, he would find some way to make the boy his.

“The boy is still pure at heart. But his hands can still be made unclean.”

Louis looked around confused. “But I have never stolen anything. My hands are clean!”

Sy Mon chuckled, “Oh, mortals are so cute. Niall,” he turned towards his servant, “cut his hands off.”

Sy Mon watched in delight as one of the young girls shrieked and ran for her brother, only for the Mother to drag her back. His lip curled as Louis glared back at him, his head held high and proud as Niall reached for the axe stuck on the chopping block.

“His weakness is water,” the blonde whispered nonchalantly, not looking at Louis.

“Wha—”

“Don’t look at me,” Niall hissed. He readied the axe. “Think about what your future will look like if you were wedded to him and cry onto your hands.”

Louis faltered. 

Sy Mon grabbed Johannah by the neck. “Lay your hands out or I’ll kill her.”

Louis glanced down at Niall quickly. This was surely just a last ditch attempt to scare him, the demon couldn’t possibly—

Niall’s face told him all he needed to know. 

Louis gulped, the tears were already coming down as he lay his hands onto the stump, palms up.

“I’m sorry about this,” Niall whispered with no expression on his face as his master practically drooled at the events unfolding before his very eyes. “I wish there was another way.”

Louis distantly wondered if he was a joke to the gods. Do not be afraid to be offered a hand, the prophecy had said. He was sure they were having a chuckle now, taunting him with fate and childish dreams that were never going to come to fruition.

Louis almost made to tell the blonde boy to just go through with it, but it was too late. The axe came down and Louis felt as though he was watching someone else’s body. It was someone else’s hands that were severed on the chopping block, adorned with an opal ring he would never be able to wear again. Someone else’s arms were bleeding. Someone else’s tears were wetting the stubs where his hands used to be.

Nobody saw the blonde elf wave his hand, making the teardrops grow larger than normal until they completely washed away the blood from Louis’ arms.

Sy Mon smiled as he absorbed the despair of the family watching their brother and son get mutilated. He let go of the Mother only to spot the disastrous truth before him. Outraged, he let out a shriek loud and frightful enough to send shivers down the spines of those miles away—distantly a dog howled. The boy’s stumps were as perfectly clean as the boy’s heart.

Sy Mon took a step towards the littlest girl in the family. Perhaps he could harden the boy’s heart by killing his family members one by one.

“I think not,” Niall crowed, trapping the demon in a vortex of whirled air.

Sy Mon shouted in horror. “How dare you use your magic against your master—”

“My master was Sy Mon the Undefeated,” Niall smiled cruelly, “but you have been defeated—by a mere mortal no less! My years serving you are over, Sy Mon. I banish you!”

And with a startling flash of rage, the demon vanished.

*

Louis looked numbly at his bandaged stumps as his mother scooped another helping of lamb on his savior’s plate.

“I don’t know how to thank you enough, Niall.”

“Oh it’s no worry miss—”

“He only helped me so he could be freed,” Louis muttered bitterly. “He doesn’t care. He would have saved anyone for his freedom.”

Louis’ stomach growled loudly as he glared down at his plate, his utensils, and the empty air where his hands used to be. The sight was sickening and, despite his hunger, enough to turn anyone off their dinner.

He tried to mask his sadness when his mother turned to him, her face stricken at the prospect that had she forgotten to help him. Ever since that morning, Johannah had a hard time looking at her son directly in the eye.

“Oh! Louis—I—Lottie could you be a dear and help feed your brother—”

“I’m fine, Mum.” 

Niall had used magic to summon gauze to wrap around his still bleeding stumps. Louis was sure that if he was of the right mind hours ago, he would have fainted from seeing his own exposed bones jutting out of his flesh.

Louis hoped that, eventually, he would be able to function with his stumps, although at the moment they were still very sore. But his mother didn’t need to know that. He couldn’t stand the pity in her eyes, as if he had dashed her dreams of fulfilling the prophecies she never heard. As if he was incapable of being a hero without his hands.

He could never hate his mother or resent her decision. But he just wished that his family would stop looking at him like that—full of sorrow and pity. With that thought, something clicked, and Louis reached to push his sun brooch—

Louis slumped, feeling as though his strings were cut. He couldn’t even push a button. Tears stung at the bottom of his eyes and he bowed his head in shame.

“Here,” Niall said nonchalantly, through a mouthful of mash. He waved a hand and Louis’ fork and knife danced across his plate to scoop up some of the potatoes. “Just open your mouth and think about what you want, and it’ll feed you.”

“Thank you,” Louis murmured, feeling rather chagrined. Perhaps it was not a big deal that they had forgotten about him; it wasn’t like they could understand his situation with a fraction of his pain and clarity.

“It’s just a cantrip,” Niall said cheekily. “You’ll have to take care of yourself after you’ve healed and stop being so lazy.”

One of the twins gasped at the remark but Louis smiled in response. He was glad at least someone wasn’t treating him like he was made of porcelain. He knew for certain that he was going to miss Niall once he’d gone, even though he didn’t fully trust him yet.

At that thought, Niall piped up, “Could I trouble you for a place to pitch my cot before our journey tomorrow?”

“Of course it’s no trouble, dear—”

Louis cut in, “ _Our_ journey?”

Johannah and Niall turned to him with incredulous looks.

“Well, it’s not safe for you here anymore, love. Now that you’ve turned eighteen, the protection is gone. I was planning to get you betrothed to someone with magic—”

Someone like Harry was Louis’ initial thought. He could see their mums conspiring to arrange something between the two of them. But it didn’t matter now, Harry was gone and Louis had missed his chance to run away with him. Who knew where he was or if he was thinking of Louis. Perhaps he had forgotten all about their conversation by the woods. He blinked back the ever-present tears; he knew that Harry deserved far more than the damaged goods he had become.

“I was planning to get out of the kingdom anyway,” Niall cut in. “I could accompany you only to the capital of Vallinel—you should be healed enough by the end of the three-day journey.”

Louis opened his mouth for another helping of potatoes as he wondered what was to become of him. Where could he go? The very prospect of leaving his family was in equal parts baffling and daunting.

*

“You know, I didn’t just help you so I could become free,” Niall piped up, leaning on Sy Mon’s cane. 

The elf explained that, after multiple escape attempts, Sy Mon had resorted to caning his knees. His magic had been completely locked up during his servitude, although he had been capable of using Sy Mon’s infernal magical stores in small enough doses that would not alert the demon.

“Of course I was curious about the ‘prophesied babe’ Sy Mon kept harping on about. But after he tricked the new Mother, I saw you, and I knew you would be able to get out of the contract with only a little help,” the elf grinned, waving his hand like a court jester. “I could tell straight away that you feel with more than your heart, Louis Tomlinson—you love and hate and empathise with your whole body and soul. You’re led not just by your head or your heart, but by your entire being. And that’s something no Infernal creature could understand.”

Louis kicked at some small pebbles, a reply hidden from him. The boy couldn’t see how being able to feel with his whole being wasn’t a good thing; it was tiring. All he could feel was the loneliness that no one else could understand, and the sharp prick of missed chances that stabbed him between the ribs when he thought about Harry. 

And at that, the boy without hands stared into the distance and wondered where his almost-lover was wandering and whether he was thinking of him too.

*

“Oi! I think he went this way!” one of the knights called out. 

Harry crouched behind the log, out of view and desperately trying to stifle the ragged breathing with a hand to his mouth. He was so close to the border; he couldn’t let them catch him now.

“Come out, come out, little witchling,” one of the gruff men taunted behind him.

Harry’s plan to go to the kingdom of Vallinel had been foiled when someone happened upon his camp during the three-day journey. It seemed that every time Harry had thought he’d gotten ahead of the angry mob, one of the minions of the church would consult their god to figure out his plan. At this point, Harry didn’t know where he was heading, and he had entertained the newfound fear that they were herding him somewhere. The tears he hadn’t let himself shed stung his eyes; why were they so hell-bent on capturing _him_?

He looked up at the sky and willed Circe or his mother to send a sign.

 _Bubble bubble_. The river seemed to laugh at him. _Are you a witch or aren’t you?_

Of course! Harry chastised himself for not realising the answer sooner. He closed his eyes and imagined the shine of scales, of breathing in the crisp water, and jumped.

Yells echoed behind him as he dove, turning into a large trout. It was better to abandon his material possessions than lose his life, he assured himself, as he swam as fast as he could towards wherever the river could take him.

As he began his long journey among the kelp and minnows he allowed his mind to stray towards Louis. Harry hoped he was happy and that his new husband made him laugh. He tried to reassure himself that Louis wouldn’t want to live the life of a refugee, it was better this way.

*

Louis plopped himself on the ground gracelessly, his centre of gravity still messed up with two missing extremities. He felt useless like this, a literal sitting duck, as Niall went off to secure them some dinner. 

It was helpful that Niall had magic to ensure that, wherever they ventured, they had a roof over their heads during the journey, but it kept leaving Louis worried for what he would do once they parted ways. He had always prided himself on his ability to read and write, but would use was a scribe without hands? Would he have to resort to begging?

Yet he couldn’t bring himself to bring up the topic of accompanying Niall wherever he was heading to. Niall had finally freed himself of fifty years of servitude, a time span that had made Louis gape. The four century-year-old elf had waved off his sympathies, saying it had only been a bump on the road. Still, the elf didn’t need the burden of being chained to cater to another deadweight.

But the selfish part of him worried at the people who were coming after him. Were they all going to be like Sy Mon? Were they hunting him down because they wanted to use his power or because they wanted to kill him? Louis desperately wished he knew about the countless prophecies told about him.

Louis bit his lip and recounted the one prophecy he knew:

_The boy is not natural  
The boy is the end of all things and the beginning of a new land  
But do not be afraid to be offered a hand_

_In ten years time, the world will hinge on a golden pin_  
Make the right choice and do not despair  
You can find those who love you everywhere 

Louis huffed. The only people he knew who loved him were gone. He thought of Lottie and the twins and wondered if he would ever see them again. The thought left Louis with a heavy heart.

Unbidden images of green eyes and dimples flooded Louis’ mind, making his eyelids heavy. And as the vulnerable boy drifted off to sleep beneath the trees, he felt safe for the first time in days.

*

**4 Years Ago**

_“I wish we could go to the dance,” Harry whined, his head stuck under one of the cushions in the cottage._

_“Me too,” Louis said sadly. “But mum said it isn’t safe. Don’t you remember the last time we tried to go to school?”_

_After the harvest, the two boys had gone with their chalkboards to the schoolhouse in the center of town only to get spat on by the parents who waited for them. It had taken ages for Louis’ lip to heal from the stones they’d thrown at them._

_“I know,” Harry moaned, before perking up. His ability to change his attitude at the drop of the hat always endeared Louis to him. “What if we had our own dance?”_

_Louis pulled his lip into his mouth in thought. “But we don’t know how to play any instruments,” he protested._

_“Maybe you don’t,” Harry replied cheekily, grabbing his mother’s violin from behind one of the cupboards. “But I’ve been practising.”_

_Louis opened his mouth to object at the idea of dancing alone while Harry played the violin, only to watch Harry concentrate, his face scrunched up into a mess of crinkles. With a decisive wiggle of fingers, the bow lifted choppily and began to glide across the strings, creating a high, pleasant sound. It was mellow and smooth and Louis found himself swaying with the rhythm._

_“Witch, remember?” Harry smiled, shyly lifting a hand up to Louis’ shoulder._

_Louis’ hand shook as he put his hand on Harry’s waist, treasuring the warmth coming off the boy. The only images he knew of the waltz were from the plays travelling troupes put on, but dances seemed to only be during the romantic scenes._

_For a moment, he imagined himself as the king dancing with his betrothed as he moved forward. Harry gracefully moved with him as they floated around the room to the sounds of an occasionally screechy violin. Louis could feel the vibrations as Harry hummed along to the melody. The crickets from outside had quieted down, making it seem like only the two of them existed, in a world where people didn’t hate those they feared. It was peaceful and secluded and Louis wouldn’t have minded remaining in that moment, with Harry, forever. Louis was afraid to breathe as Harry rested his head on his shoulder as they kept drifting around the room._

_“Why am I the girl?” Harry murmured, breaking the stillness._

_“Because you’re sweeter,” Louis replied without thinking._

_Harry’s cheeks reddened, making him nuzzle deeper into his dance partner’s shoulder, in fear of him seeing his reaction. “Oh.”_

*

Niall whistled as he floated a stunned hare in front of him while he leaned on his cane. He knew Louis would be safe as long as he stayed within the temporary wards of the camp.

As he came out of the thicket of trees he paused to take in the sight of his travel partner. The young man was sitting against one of the trees with his eyes closed as he swayed to a melody that only he could hear. He looked so innocent, much like a lamb led to the slaughter that Niall knew he had the chance of being.

Niall closed his eyes and sighed. He sincerely hoped they were doing the right thing.


	3. In Which We Encounter Royalty...

The sun shone brightly as it hovered just above the hills and valleys of Vallinel. It was still grumpy after its short sleep. The long summer days really didn’t provide enough time for the sun to recharge, but it made do, beaming down at the inhabitants of the large town.

It stretched its invisible arms as it crept higher, startling the roosters on the many farms surrounding the capital into signalling the beginning of a new day. The sun yawned, creating copper shadows on the castle in the center of Crystalhaven. The city was aptly named as the turrets of the palace were made of finely cut crystal ranging from topaz to onyx to moonstone. It was a boastful, magnificent structure that belied the humble king that inhabited it. 

As the sun peeked into the windows of every occupant in the city, it noticed one person still wide awake from the night before.

“Again,” King Liam James, the third of his name, demanded, banging his head against the desk.

“We narrowed it down to Lady Cheryl from Mount Eskel territory, Lord Olliver from the Murs province, and the Seelie Prince Zayn of Malik.”

Liam banged his head against the library desk once more. Both Lady Cheryl and Prince Zayn were much older than him, and he vividly (and uncomfortably) remembered Lord Olliver pinching his arse at the last ball. He supposed he could cope with Lady Cheryl since he at least knew how much older she was. Prince Zayn was a Seelie who pleasantly replied that he had stopped counting after a thousand harvests. He knew age was perhaps just a number, but he did not want to be treated like a child on his own throne. Liam did not expect to fall in love with his consort; his only wish was for someone to treat in kindness and receive it in return as equals.

However, Liam could not afford to be picky. His lack of plentiful suitors confirmed the widely-held suspicions that his kingdom had been expected to be attacked by the land of Solace for a decade now. Many suspected that the death of the king, his father, had been caused by Solace spies, which had led to his hasty coronation. 

His House of Lords had been unexpectedly kind to him after his father’s death, but after three years they had grown testy at his lack of consort. It was believed by some more traditionally-minded Lords that a consort would lend to a more mature image, one to be feared by the kingdom of Solace. At first, they had suggested an alliance with another kingdom bordering Solace, but as unopened invitations kept returning, his council had given up on that idea. 

Soon thereafter, they had given Liam an ultimatum: choose and propose to a suitor before Friday at sundown or a coup would ensue. 

It was currently Wednesday morning.

A bright thought came to the king’s mind. “Maybe we could just do one of those festivals where royals fight for my hand! I could send them on a quest!”

Paul gave him a withering look. “All in two days, sire?”

Liam groaned and fussed at his hair, “Alright. One more time, Paul, remind me of the pros and cons of making a break for it and abdicating the throne.”

“Aye, sire.”

*

“Alright,” Niall said brightly, adjusting his pack as they looked up at the city gates. “This here is Crystalhaven, the capital city of Vallinel. I’m sure you will be able to find an inn somewhere that will take you in for the night.”

Louis nodded. He felt like just uttering goodbye to the only person in this kingdom that he knew would cause him to spill out all the worries he didn’t want to burden his travel partner with.

“It was a pleasure getting to know you, Lou, it really was. Stay safe out there,” the elf said gently, turning away for a second before producing a golden scarf. The fabric held a pattern of tiny suns that all seemed to glow, casting an ethereal light on their figures. “I noticed you’re still having trouble with your balance and thought this would help. So here’s a parting gift from me, eh?”

The elf tied Louis’ stumps against his chest with the golden fabric. It felt even softer than it appeared and definitely seemed to hold some kind of magic, much like his purple cloak. Louis sighed in relief as the new placement of his arms did make him feel lighter, although it could have been just from the mere Magic of the scarf.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Niall said. He produced a silver necklace from his sack onto which a familiar opal ring glinted.

Louis gasped, “How did you— Oh, _thank you_ —”

Niall shook his thanks away with a bittersweet smile and turned away again, for good this time.

“Wait! Will I see you again?” 

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll meet once more. Our prophecies promise so.” 

Louis’ brow furrowed, “ _Our_ prophecies?”

Niall cackled, “You didn’t think the prince of the sun elves could get captured so easily?” And with that, the elf disappeared into thin air.

Louis blinked. He didn’t have the mental capacity to deal with that revelation at the moment.

And thus with only the clothes on his back, Louis trudged past the gates of this new kingdom in which he’d plant the seeds of the next chapter of his life. With a nervous determination, Louis held his head high, ready for whatever may come.

*

Harry wrapped his shawl tightly around his ankle as he cursed silently at himself. He used to see his klutzy nature as an advantage that would make Louis sigh and giggle under his breath, not something that could cost him his life in the desert. He was still not positive about his precise location, as he could not find anyone to ask in the roaming desert. Although, he had suspicions that he was somewhere bordering the Red Waste, the land of demons and trickster spirits. The only settlements he found were abandoned and burned down merchant towns, and everywhere he could feel eyes watching him. He never remained in any one place too long; perhaps it was paranoia or restlessness, but Harry had to keep on the move for fear of becoming complacent and being caught.

He had begun by zig-zagging his way across the land, stopping wherever he could find water and jerky. At night he would dream of the pies he and his mother would make, drooling while remembering how good clotted cream tasted dripping down the crust.

Harry bit his tongue, it wouldn’t do him good to let his mind wander, as that was what got him into this mess. He had to keep moving.

He hissed as he made to get up. The shawl tied around his ankle was not relieving much of his pain, and it freed up his long hair that obscured his vision. His curls made the hot air settle heavier on his head. Harry wished he could use his magic to heal himself, but he knew using one’s magic to help solely oneself was something that could turn a witch dark and he would not let something like moderate pain interfere with his morals.

With the sun glaring down on his uncovered head, Harry wondered if this was the event that would end his life. Some sand, a faulty ankle, and dehydration. He trundled ahead, exhausted and wincing at the excruciating pain that only seemed to worsen beneath the glaring sun.

“Oi!” A few hours later, a loud shout awakened him from his sun exhaustion.

Standing in front of him was the hallucination of his older sister, dressed as a pirate. The gods could truly be cruel, he mused. The last time he had seen Gemma was years ago when rumours had swirled around that she was a changeling. One night after a riot had kicked off, Gemma left without even a goodbye, which had broken Harry’s heart in two. 

“Bless Circle that I could see you one last time,” Harry croaked, reaching out a shaking hand— Cold water splashed onto his face, interrupting his last thoughts. The gods—

“If you’re going to call me a hallucination one more time, I will spit on you, Haz,” his older sister snarked before pinching him hard on the arm.

“Ow!” 

“Serves you right, not giving your long lost sister a hug,” Gemma said with a smirk. 

The sting in his arm eased as he slowly realized his big sister was _alive_. She wore what he assumed was a once-white peasant blouse with sleeves that had surely been longer and brown trousers that were ripped at the bottom. Atop her head was an auburn shawl that looked more expensive than any of the scarves they had worn at home, although the colour had shifted to a rusty red in places.

"How did you know I was here?” Harry croaked.

Gemma gave him a wry grin. “I scry sometimes with the mirrors on the ship. I was looking for a port but ended up seeing my sore brother out in the middle of nowhere instead.”

“Ship?” Harry repeated, his mind slowly taking in her words.

“You’re looking at Styles de Highcourt, Captain of the Wild Scarlet,” Gemma said proudly. She helped him up, supporting his weight. A rumbling noise surrounded them as a flying, red pirate ship came out from behind a cloud. “Welcome to the sky pirate life, Hazza.”

*

Louis wandered the empty streets, desolate and heartbroken. None of the inns would take him in after seeing the state of his hands. Even though he insisted he could read, perhaps bookkeep, anything—no one could see past his disability.

Although the harsh treatment did not sting as much since he had received this kind of treatment all his life, it did leave him with anxiety. What was he expected to do with no one on his side? 

Perhaps the prophecy only told the opposite of the truth; perhaps no one could love him like this. Not only were his limbs unworkable— _disgusting_ one of the innkeepers had hissed, sneering at the still-exposed bones—but his spirit was dejected too. 

Louis kicked another stone in his path, causing it to hit a gate that was different from all the others he’d seen. He looked up to see an exquisite palace shining high above him. The turrets glowed in the dusk light sending a shining light towards the palace garden in front of him.

Louis’ stomach growled as he took in the high trees filled with peaches, pears, and plums. He had not had a chance to eat anything after Niall had departed that morning. The warm, honeyed scents of ripe fruit wafting over the gate almost made Louis feel faint for a moment.

He knew that he could not open the gate or—gods forbid—climb over it. Even if he could, it was treason to steal from royalty, and it did not help that Louis was foreign. 

“But I wish, I wish I could take just one bite of that pear,” he said to himself, rather faintly. And as he stared up at the tree, something inside the garden seemed to glow.

A figure appeared in the garden, right behind the gate—a tall man dressed in silver and blue, which seemed to glow against his dark skin. Light stubble was peppered along his face, which seemed to accentuate his sharp features that were so beautiful Louis knew he couldn’t be human. Louis knew who the man was, deep down, and the realization made his shoulders drop from their tight position.

“Louis,” the Seelie murmured, with a little sigh, “I am glad you finally called upon me for help.”

Prince Zayn unlatched the gate and opened the crystal gate wide, his arms beckoning him closer.

Louis stood under the pear tree, the low-hanging fruit was still too high for him to reach, and he couldn’t bear the humiliation of being hand-fed like a child by the prince.

“How—?”

The Seelie flew up and took hold of the branch before floating downward, bringing the fruit level to Louis. He hesitated for a moment; how could he steal from the king of this new land?

Prince Zayn’s eyes were kind as he lowered the tree, even more, his reassuring tone brushed away Louis’ worries as if through magic. “Come, eat your fill. I will make sure everything goes well.”

Louis’ eyes fluttered as he took a bite, the rough skin quickly giving way to juicy flesh. Juices dribbled down his chin as he quickly demolished the fruit, going on the tips of his toes in order to take bites near the top of the pear. It was succulent and delicious and he instantly felt more content.

Dusk became night while Louis tasted the juices of pears, peaches, and plums, as the Seelie prince accompanied him from above. Neither noticed a figure hiding behind the bushes, watching their every move with widened eyes.

When Louis had finally eaten his fill he turned to the prince. 

Before he could give thanks, the Seelie floated down towards him. “Do not hesitate to call upon me again, young one. I promised your new Mother that I would protect you. Now rest, and I will do just that.”

Prince Zayn pointed towards a patch of grass behind one of the trees. With his belly warm and full, Louis obeyed and lay against the surprisingly soft grass. As his velvet cloak wrapped around him, the boy immediately fell asleep as his guard whispered a spell before departing.

*

Another sleepless night and King Liam James third of his name was absolutely at his wit’s end.

After finally making his amends and sending a proposal to Lady Cheryl of the mountains, he had received a disappointing reply informing him that she was already courting one of the Lords at her court. Not to mention the vaguely threatening letter he had received from the Leader of his council that had hinted that some of Solace’s troops at their border had grown belligerent. Vallinel had to be considered strong with an alliance, and soon.

King Liam rubbed his palms against his eyes. Perhaps now was the time to take a breather and walk along his garden. His father had always loved gardening and, with the help of the staff the palace at Crystalhaven, had created an enormous garden filled with flowers, fruit, and herbs. Liam remembered playing along the fruit trees as a child; perhaps the familiar setting would settle his nerves.

He strolled out to the gardens as the sun began to rise, but stopped short as he took in the almost barren trees. Someone had made a significant dent in his fruit trees! King Liam searched for his gardener, only to see the older man emerge from behind one of the bushes with frantic eyes.

“Georg! Did you see who stole my peaches, pears, and plums?”

The old man nodded, his grey eyebrows furrowed as if he had seen a ghost. “Aye, I did see, Sire. I saw it with my own eyes, I did.”

King Liam furrowed his brow, “And you did nothing? It’s treason to steal from the king!”

“How could I, sire?” The gardener fidgeted with his cap, twisting it harshly. “It was like a dream, sire, an angel without hands ate the fruit as the faerie prince lowered the branches for him.”

“An angel?” Liam echoed. Magical creatures lived freely in Vallinel but he had never encountered a celestial being before.

“Aye, your majesty, he was pretty enough to be some kind of spirit. His eyes were the clearest blue, I could tell even from afar.”

King Liam moved closer to the patch of pear trees, his brow furrowing as he saw a hint of velvet fabric. The material looked rich enough to match his own wardrobe, but if this so-called angel stole fruit he could easily steal clothes as well.

As he stepped closer, he called out, “Did you see this ‘angel’ leave?”

“No sire,” the gardener stumbled behind him fearfully. “He just vanished into thin air, he did.”

“Then who is this?” The king pointed at the sleeping figure he was crouched next to.

The gardener looked puzzled, “Who, sire?”

The cloak seemed to move due to all the noise until a head popped out from under it, and the king instantly knew why the gardener assumed this thief was an angel.

A boy not much older than Liam groggily blinked his eyes, hints of cerulean blue peeking out and catching the early morning sunlight. Even after evidently sleeping outside, with his caramel fringe messed upon his head and chapped lips, the boy looked beautiful in a way that was impossible to pinpoint. His lips were not full nor was his skin unmarked, yet there seemed to be something shining from within him that made him breathtaking—as though he was possessed by a special gift from the gods; one of goodness and light.

After a few moments of mutual staring, although Liam’s was more filled with awe than confusion, the boy jumped as he registered the golden crown atop Liam’s head. 

“Oh!” he exclaimed.

The gardener jumped at that too, as if at that moment the boy had become visible to him as well.

“Oh no,” the boy said anxiously, biting his lip. The act made Liam blush unlike himself.

“Who are you?” Liam rasped. The king chastised himself – he couldn’t let his guard down; this could be a clever trick from Solace after all. “I, King Liam James the third of my name, demand to know how you came to lie within the borders of the palace.”

As the boy began to spin his sad tale, Liam’s heart ached. He worried his lip as the boy tearfully revealed the story behind his lost hands, the pain he felt once he had no choice but to leave home, and how lost he felt with no plan to remain safe with a roof over his head. 

Liam had never heard any prophecies about a boy in his kingdom, and yet, “I will try to find a way to protect you,” he assured Louis.

“Oh, would you?” The boy sat forward excitedly, causing his cloak to fall down to reveal the two stumps wrapped in a fabric held a sigil Liam recognized with wide-eyed clarity.

“Was this the gift Niall gave you?” Liam asked cautiously, his hand reaching for the fabric, although he wisely pulled back as the fabric glowed menacingly at the movement.

Louis nodded, looking surprised at the king’s insistent tone.

At the lack of reaction beside the widening of ocean-blue eyes, Liam blushed. He supposed not many people had a formal education about the customs of other kingdoms.

“Sun elves rarely give out tokens to outsiders. You see, gifts have a different meaning to them; it marks the receiver as a part of their clan. But for the _prince_ of the sun elves to give you a gift with his sigil,” Liam trailed off. Louis was practically family to the lost prince of the sun elves.

Louis gaped at him. “Are you implying that this scarf makes me a prince?”

Well, practically a prince, although more like the lost prince’s ward, Liam meant to say. Although Louis was still considered a citizen of Solace— Oh. His heart leapt at the revelation and the words spilt from his mouth before he had a moment to consider their full significance.

“Marry me.”

Louis blinked. The realisation of Liam’s proposal dawned on him and he raised a sardonic eyebrow, showing Liam that he had a cheekier side, “Ex _cuse_ me, Liam?”

The forgotten gardener gasped at the lack of title, but Liam just grinned. A boy who was considered both royal family to a magical kingdom and a citizen of Solace. A boy who didn’t balk at speaking his mind while also radiating kindness. A boy who wouldn’t treat him any differently. A _cute_ boy, Liam thought with a blush.

“I just— Well— See, there are rumours that Solace sees us a weak magical kingdom and my council have been pestering me to find someone to marry by tomorrow night. And what could protect you more than becoming consort to the king of a magical kingdom? And well, I can see myself falling for you or at least—”

Kind eyes twinkled back at him. “I suppose when you put it that way, it makes sense. I should warn you that most of my heart still belongs to another, although I can also see myself happy with you after you have been so kind to me. Yet,” Louis’ smile seemed to dim, “I cannot understand why you would want to marry someone like me. A king could do much better than damaged goods.” His eyes flitted down to his arms and he shifted self-consciously on the spot.

“Damaged goods?” Liam repeated incredulously. He shook his head vehemently, imploring Louis to meet his gaze. “I have known men who have lost their limbs in battle for reasons less honourable than you. You managed to get out of a contract with a demon just by losing your hands, which only shows how admirably strong you truly are.” Liam looked deeply into Louis' eyes, “I would be honored to call such a person my husband.”

“Oh,” Louis spoke softly, a tear running down his face. 

Liam stepped closer and brushed it away with one of his fingers. “And I will let everyone know how special my husband is by making you a prosthetic worthy of you, with my own hands.”

_*_

Sy Mon hissed, ripping the wedding invitation in two. The air grew red and humid around him. “The boy managed to weed his way into royalty. How did you allow this to happen? I told you to do whatever you could to make sure the boy became desperate. _Well?_ ”

The figure in the mirror flinched as yellow eyes glared at him. “We did just as you asked, your Horribleness, we did not allow the boy room to sleep in any of the inns and made sure no one helped him.”

“Well it looked like _someone_ did,” Sy Mon snarled. “Pray tell _how_ it went unnoticed that Seelie royalty managed to feed the boy _and_ procure him protection?”

“Pray tell how your Horribleness never noticed your servant was sun elf royalty,” a figure in a different mirror murmured softly.

Sy Mon screeched in anger. “How _dare_ you, you insolent—”

“It does not seem that any of you realise the dire state of events we are in,” a thunderous voice echoed inside the chamber below the Red Waste. “The prophecy states that ‘once the boy gains the king’s hand’ we can no longer convert the boy towards our side. And since _someone_ got banished after failing to capture the boy for us, causing this prophecy to become fulfilled, our next step is destroying the boy.”

Colossal, soulless, unblinking black eyes turned towards the lesser demons. Sy Mon the Defeated shivered in joyful disgust and let out a roar of manic glee.

“We all know what could happen if we do not band together,” the voice boomed, alluding to the main prophecy. “Even though Sy Mon the Defeated has disappointed me, the plan will continue. Until then, stay strong, brothers and wreak chaos!”

Sy Mon grinned in the red darkness as the lesser beings cheered. One by one the figures in the mirrors disappeared to take on their glamour once more. 

As the demon moved to go to his chambers, the same booming voice growled, “Sy Mon, you have one last chance. Do not disappoint me.”

Sy Mon bowed low, to the large figure in the darkness, “I will make sure Louis is taken care of.” He was going to have so much fun destroying the boy, in body, mind, and soul.

*

Louis stared at himself in the mirror as a butler adjusted his robe. A stranger with glowing blue eyes looked back at him, sun-kissed skin peeking out with no dirt or blemishes, and caramel hair standing straight up with some kind of magical gel. The stranger was dressed in cream, a colour his family would never have been able to afford, with a gold circlet wrapped around his head.

Louis supposed riches was one of the most powerful forms of magic, but he never knew anything could make him — so handsome. He bit his lip, which looked plumper than he had ever seen them from a cream he’d been taught to use. The only thing that made him feel like himself was the chain peeking out from beneath his jacket, where an opal ring warmed his skin, reminding him of his home and the journey he had completed.

He knew he was expected to do more than kiss the king after they married, but just the thought of kissing someone other than Harry made his stomach drop. Louis wondered what Harry would think of him if he knew what he was about to do. A feeling resided within him that told him of the special connection he shared with Harry. He knew that, if Harry was no longer alive, he would know with his very being, as if some switch would click in his mind or the opal would no longer shine as bright. He clung onto that fallacy as the butler pinned a heavy robe embroidered with gold suns and diamonds onto his shoulders. The diamonds — as big as strawberries — glinted against the mirror, making him look like some ethereal being.

“Are you ready, sir?”

Louis nodded.

This would be the first time he would see Liam since the proposal. Every night, the servants would usher him away from the lower floors where he could hear metal clanking. He was not sure if they were saving their reunion as a surprise as a royal custom or if there had been orders for no one below to see the foreigner without hands. He supposed that was better than being treated like a freakshow. He still felt like an outsider, which was not helped by the fact that some of the staff seemed nervous to talk to him. He supposed it could be due to his roots to Solace.

The butler ushered him to a closed door where a red carpet peeked out. Louis took a deep, trembling breath as nervousness shot through his body like lightning. He supposed that this was really happening. There was no going back. His future husband stood around the corner and his future was just out of reach.

Strings from inside the room grew louder as the double-doors creaked open showing a cavernous room filled with light. White and blue flowers and white silk hung from the rafters of the chapel, arching over the crowd who had all turned around to stare at him. The sight was magnificent but Louis truly couldn’t comprehend it all, couldn’t appreciate every minute detail as a strange combination of adrenaline and anxiety tangled in his stomach.

Louis kept his head up as he stepped forward, trying to ignore the whispers and glances at his arms tied up in Niall’s scarf in front of him. He swore if he saw the sun elf again he was going to wring his neck for not telling him his preposterous plan.

The long cape dragged behind him, blowing in the wind emerging from the open windows. As he got closer to the altar, he saw Liam staring at him with wide eyes. He looked vastly different from the sleep-deprived mess Louis met in the garden. He was dressed in a purer white than Louis with silver shoulder pads trimmed in gold, and a grand, official velvet trimmed crown adorned his head. His beard had grown out more and his hair was cut shorter, making the curls tighter and more pronounced. 

Well, Louis had always loved curls.

Louis paused and exhaled. No, he couldn’t think of Harry right now. Liam was giving him the gift of protection; in return, he would try to love him as much as he could.

The strings soared as he stepped up to stand beside the king.

“You look beautiful,” Liam whispered reverently. “Wow.”

Louis blushed, looking up at the king from beneath his eyelashes, “Thank you, my lord.”

“Er,” King Liam blushed brightly, a loss for words as his fiance stared at him innocently, sparkling brighter than a star.

It took the court sorcerer clearing his throat three times after the orchestra finished their piece for the king to come back to his senses. 

King Liam clasped his hands as he turned to the crowd, “Ah, yes. Today is a very special day. Today we will bind the nations of Vallinel, Solace, and the kingdom of the Sun Elves symbolically. Today we will show that the kingdom of Vallinel is a powerful, unified nation with two sovereign, caring rulers! I want to thank you, my dear subjects for coming here to celebrate my groom-to-be with me.” 

Cheers erupted around them and Louis glanced around, taking in the beaming faces in the room.

The sorcerer nodded their head. “Yes, very well. We will start with the marriage ceremony.”

Liam turned back to Louis as the sorcerer began speaking in an Olde tongue as their bonding began. The warm, chocolate eyes were not familiar but they were still sweet and made him feel warm inside. Wrinkles crinkled, extinguishing the eyes as Liam smiled back at him.

Louis looked around in confusion as the droning stopped, although everyone around him seemed to understand. Liam turned around towards one of the council members. Once he turned around a heavy-looking box made of cherry wood lay in his hands, far larger than a box that would only contain jewelry.

At Louis puzzled look, Liam lowered his voice, “I know I can never replace the love that hangs upon your neck, but I hope I can make you as happy as they did. I don’t expect you to love me in place of them.” The king raised his voice once again to address the crowd. “Instead of a ring to show my devotion, I gift you these hands that I forged from my own.”

Louis gasped in astonishment, a strange, lifting sensation consuming him. Golden light gleamed from the opening as Liam slowly opened the heavy wood. Prosthetic hands too fine for Louis to imagine glimmered up at him like the rays of a perfect morning. Fine gold, as thin as lace, formed geometric patterns interwoven together similar to a net. Yet as delicate as the weaving gold seemed, the metal still looked strong and unbending.

“I wanted to make something that was as golden as your soul. I know the pattern is quite simple, but—” the King stammered.

“I love it,” Louis whispered, tears forming in his eyes. His heart raced in his chest at the prospect of wearing the prosthetic hands, of fulfilling menial tasks by himself, without having to rely on others. Liam had not only given him hands, but he had also given him independence, protection, and the assurance that he truly was a generous man too. 

“Oh,” Liam looked flustered once more, “I enchanted them so they will follow your every whim and fancy. Just say _Kom her_ when you want them to attach and _Søvn_ to detach them.”

“ _Kom her_ ,” Louis intoned the magical tone, feeling a rush of air rustle his hair and cape. The hands flew from the box onto his hands, there was a gentle click as the prosthetic fit snug, yet comfortable.

The sorcerer let out a patronal chuckle. “I take it you then accept King Liam James the third of his name as your husband?”

“I accept,” Louis smiled wide as Liam responded the same in turn.

“I now pronounce you newlyweds in the eyes of Hecate,” the sorcerer clucked in disapproval as Liam eagerly stepped forward to kiss Louis. “Not just yet, your majesty.”

The sorcerer turned and produced a silver crown interlaid with diamonds and too many crystals for Louis to name, “All hail king consort of Vallinel, King Consort Louis of Vallinel!” The grey-haired sorcerer gave Liam a wink. “You may now kiss your groom.”

In one swift movement, Liam cupped Louis face before eagerly kissing him. It was nothing like the emotional kiss in the woods with Harry, yet it was not dull. Faint fizzles simmered in Louis's stomach as his new husband gave him multiple little kisses, each one eager and imprinting on his lips. Louis couldn’t help but giggle after the fifth kiss, as he came to the realization that Liam reminded him of a happy puppy, Liam quickly joined in his laughter, looking radiant beside him. 

As they once again faced the populace, Louis felt a jolt as every adoring citizen was on their feet, watching them, as if they had bowed but had grown weary from the antics of the two royals. Pleased, adoring faces looked up at them as a sudden, enlightening thought struck Louis: he had found a new family. He tried to hide his smile with the back of his new hand as he realised the warm feeling flowing through his body was happiness. He hadn’t been familiar with the sensation in so very long, but he was overflowing with it.

And he tried to ignore the prick of guilt as his mind strayed to green eyes once more.


	4. In Which Everyone Decides to Settle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: There is a sex scene between Liam and Louis in this chapter. If you don't want to read it, skip the section after Liam and Louis enter the great hall.

**Four Years Later**

Below the deck of the Wild Scarlet, Harry slowly and carefully unpeeled an orange. They weren’t his most favourite fruit — that honour lay with the banana, a strange fruit he found among their travels — but he had found it sitting lost in one of the hallways and it looked lonely. And honestly, the last thing he wanted was to get scurvy at this point on the trip.

As Harry slowly chewed on a juicy portion of the orange, the Wild Scarlet shook as another canon exploded from below. He would have to find a vendor on Ground who sold oranges and bananas, or perhaps Gemma to stop by with some every now and then. He heard a body slam down onto the deck from above, he hoped it wasn’t any of theirs.

The thumps of loud footsteps resonated from just outside the door grew louder. Harry sighed and threw the last bites of the orange into his mouth. It was quite inconsiderate to interrupt someone in the middle of a snack, who knew the next time they would have time to touch Ground to go shopping again.

The heavy wooden door swung open, letting in the sounds of steel against steel and grunts from the upper deck.

A heavily scarred man with a large hat sneered down at him, “So 'tis th' cap'n's brother. Looks like a pansy t' me.”

Harry leisurely gathered the skin of the orange and tucked it into his boot for safekeeping. He would hate to have his zest contaminated with blood.

“'Tis well-nigh like lootin' candy from a sprog.” A second man crowded the doorway, looking even more grisly than the first. He smiled a big, slow smile consisting of only swollen purple gums, at the stacks of chests overflowing with jewels and gold strewn around the room. It was a bit too late for oranges for that one, Harry thought.

“You should have really eaten more Vitamin C,” Harry commented, while slowly reaching behind him for his sabre.

“Reggie, get 'im!” the first pirate yelled.

With his free hand, Harry slid a heavy chest filled with pomegranate-sized - another fruit he quite liked - emeralds closer to him. Reggie immediately tripped over the object; perhaps because of his excitement, the scurvy, or all of the above. The other pirate stared at his partner in distaste for only a moment before charging towards Harry as well, sword high in the air. Quickly Harry blocked the steel with his own.

The pirate let out a yell, as Harry feigned yawning as he blocked every advance. With each thrust and parry, Harry was led closer to the back wall of the room.

A hand from the ground pulled at his waistcoat. Harry fell right into a pile of the finest Sylvan silk. He rolled as a rip resounded through the room, as a sword tore fabric where Harry’s head had just rested.

“Face me, you scallywag!” Scar-face screamed, throwing down his sword. From within his heavy coat, the pirate produced two guns pointed at Harry.

“Alright,” Harry drawled, dropping his sabre as well. He pointed at the man in front of him with just his pointer-fingers.

“Do ye reckon 'tis some kind o' game? I be Captain James o' th' Late Sow! I be feared all throughout th' blue sky! I've scuttled more scallywags than th' number o' birds in th’ air. No man can defeat me!”

“Then it’s good that I am no man,” a feminine voice resounded from the door. A loud boom of a musket filled the room and Harry pouted while watching Captain James sink to the floor.

“Gemma,” he whined, “I had him!”

His sister raised an eyebrow, looking down at the body between them. Instead of guns, the late pirate now had two bright yellow bananas clutched in his hands.

“ _Really_ , Haz?”

Harry huffed and crossed his arms, “It was going to be funny.”

Gemma sighed, “Let’s go up.”

It only took an hour for Harry’s magic to clean and dispose of the dead bodies. (His technique mostly consisted of throwing the bodies off board to fall the 1,000 or so kilometers to the ground below). Reggie and the rest of the crew of the Late Sow were left on their destroyed ship, with all of their treasure carried on the Wild Scarlet. To Harry’s excitement, there were gallons of apples — the same kind that he used to pick behind Louis’ house.

When it had grown dark, with only the sounds of the after-dinner fiddle and the air whistling, Harry turned to his sister, “How did you decide to just pick up your life and take it to the skies?”

Gemma took a bite of the crisp apple, “It wasn’t really a conscious decision, Haz. It wasn’t like we even knew sky pirates existed back home. My thought process was just, like, get out of Larchville and find something to do and maybe have that something be involved with magic. I never wanted to follow the path of Circe, but magic sure makes life easier.”

Harry stared out at the fluffy clouds floating below him, his short life as a sky pirate had been indeed filled with magic. One night while he was very drunk, he had dived off the ship and tried to bounce on the clouds, only to find they were mostly just air and water. He wasn’t allowed above deck for a week. 

“It’s a bad idea to settle down, isn’t it?”

“It’s a bad idea to do anything in this day and age if you listen to any soothsayers,” Gemma chuckled. 

Harry kept looking at the clouds, passively watching a confused pelican emerge from one of them.

“Why don’t you ask Circe? Light some candles to get into the mood?”

“You know the candles won’t help me Gem,” Harry finally turned away to look at her. “Anyway, Circe stopped answering me. All I’ve gotten for the past month is complete silence.” He bit his lip, “Maybe it means I should stay—”

Gemma took his hand, “You’re not happy here, Haz. You puked the first time we went up a cloud level.”

“And I got better! At least I have family here,” Harry protested.

“Yes, you have family and a growing fear of birds tangling in your hair,” Gemma chuckled. “Maybe Circe’s silence means she wants you to choose what to do next — for yourself and no one else.”

“Mum told me to go to Vallinel to open the shop,” Harry trailed off.

Gemma squeezed his hand, “Do _you_ want to go to Vallinel, though?” Harry looked at their hands. “Anyone can tell you love helping people and those dratted candles, but do you want to do it in Crystalhaven, surrounded by people? Do you think it would be safe?”

Harry kept quiet. Everything always came back to keeping Harry safe, and he was sick of it. He was twenty! Practically a full-grown man!

“Think about it, Haz. Choose for yourself, and then enjoy the rest of your last days in the sky.”

*

Louis let out a guffaw from where he was sitting in the meadow. His husband, with eyes screwed as tight as his hands on the reins, let out a high-pitched scream. The pegasus rolled its eyes as it lifted from the ground, flapping its black wings.

Liam had requested that for their four year anniversary they spend the day together doing their favorite things. Louis had much fun down at the workshop where Liam toiled whenever he was stressed. Unfortunately, the day also included Louis’ newest favourite pastime: pegasus riding. He had never known they existed in the harsh anti-magic kingdom he grew up in until their first year anniversary. 

It had become a tradition every month since their wedding for Liam to gift him with something he bought or made that he felt Louis would enjoy. Sometimes, such a gift would be a new prosthetic he thought Louis would love, such as the silver hook he forged in dragonfire or the fingers made only of air elementals whirling in self-contained tornadoes. Yet none of the gifts enraptured Louis’ heart as the black pegasus Liam brought back from his visit to the Mountains. 

The foal’s midnight black coat would gleam an almost deep purple after Louis had spent time brushing it and talking to Twist. He let some of the royals think the name alluded to the loop-de-loops the pegasus was so fond of, but only Liam and he knew the meaning behind it.

Yet perhaps Louis’ favourite part of these yearly celebrations were the nights they shared, just the two of them. Liam would make sure to clear all his appointments for the next day as they explored each other's bodies until long after the sun came up. Louis never knew he could have this simple yet luxurious life, and he always gave thanks to the Seelie who opened the gate for him on that fateful day years ago.

The kingdom of Vallinel had also indeed flourished as Louis did. With another sovereign ruler on the throne, Liam was able to visit the territories and provinces in the nation and quell any inner conflict that threatened their newly-strengthened kingdom. And as Louis became more learned in the politics of ruling, Liam branched out to other kingdoms and formed alliances in case the day battle against Solace ever commenced.

Louis picked another flower with golden fingers — despite the massive amount he owned, the first set of prosthetics would always be his favourite — as Twist did another loop de loop. 

“Alright, enough!” Louis called out, laughing and beckoning Twist into a gentle dive. He hid the flower crown behind his back as Liam hopped off, his face a slightly green tinge. His husband was famously known to be terrified of heights, but it warmed Louis’ heart that he still tried to enjoy his hobby if only to please him.

“Are you alright? Feeling slightly pukey?” Louis asked as he lifted Liam’s face, moving it side to side cheekily until Liam playfully batted his hand away. He was allowed to notice how handsome his husband became each day as his jaw chiselled out even more.

“Of course I’m alright, my dove,” Liam said genially. He adjusted his skewed riding clothes with still trembling hands. He gave Louis a glare as the brunette snorted in amusement. “I don’t know how you can stomach flying all the time.”

Louis smiled, bringing out the crown adorned with marigolds and baby’s breath. His nervousness forgotten, Liam bent down as Louis placed the crown on top of his short hair.

“Come, husband, I hear Mary is making venison and bacon pie for dinner, plus those quail eggs you adore so much.” Louis pinched Liam’s nipple, making the King squeak and grab for his gold hand. “I bet you another riding lesson I can make it to the dining hall before you!”

Liam laughed breathlessly behind him as Louis ran up the hill, more acquainted with the terrain from years of racing his siblings home.

As they rushed into the great hall, the warm, smoky scent of cooked game and sweet mead filled his nostrils, wrapping Louis in a cozy embrace. Liam arrived shortly after him, panting, hands on his knees to the amusement of the staff whirling around them. Paul gave both of them a cluck of disapproval that was softened by the tender smile growing on his face. 

Shortly recovering, Liam cocked his head for a kiss which Louis quickly obliged before pinching his husband’s other nipple and dashing towards their seats at the front of the hall. Cher, one of the assistants cooks to Mary, winked and tossed him a hot bun on his way up. He smiled, taking a large bite of the sweet treat, as he heard empty threats quickly catching up to him. Yes, he was happy, safe, and he would be selfish to ask for anything more.

*

The door clicked behind the two as Liam wrestled Louis onto the bed, his smile heavy with the events that were to come in their bedroom. Louis giggled, reaching for Liam’s chest, although he was swiftly combated with hands grasping his own.

“I should tie you up and tease you until you’re begging for my tongue,” Liam growled, throwing Louis onto the bed. 

Louis tried to subtly squeeze his thighs together, he loved the feeling of his husband’s stubble between his cheeks along with the soreness that lingered the following morning, reminding him of his nightly escapades.

“Oh?” Louis asked. He raised an eyebrow, enjoying the whine from his husband. He knew all the tells of how to seduce the king and keep him wanting more. “I think it would be a proper punishment if my husband just took my hands away for the night until I begged properly.”

Liam’s brow furrowed, his teasing voice vanishing into thin air, “You know I would never take your prosthetics away from you.”

Louis rolled his eyes before replying in a sing-song voice, “If my husband is so quick to turn serious, I will soon bore of him.” He exaggerated snores, scrunching his nose.

Liam gave him a light smack on the thigh, “I’m serious, Lou. I would never do what your past betrothed did to you. I vow to always make sure you feel safe with me.”

Louis rolled his eyes once he noticed his husband would not let this go, that he would vehemently uphold his virtues and promises. “I know of this, dear husband. Now get over here and make me forget any past suitors.”

No longer serious, a mischievous glint in his eye, Liam crowded between his legs, tearing his husband’s riding pants off. The tailor could always mend them with Magic tomorrow, he thought absently. He flipped his lover onto his stomach, knowing what his strength did to him, even if Louis tried to muffle his moans. The king marvelled at his lover’s sun-kissed skin, visible everywhere, his fingers following the curve of Louis’ back and over the ridges of his plump cheeks.

“Thank you Hecate for the meal I am about to receive,” Liam drolled as he spread Louis’ cheeks, exposing a soft pink pucker. His lover stifled his giggles in his hands, arching his back as his husband let him stew in the anticipation.

“Leemo! I swear—” Louis’ whines were cut short as a slick tongue lapped at his centre and flicked just right. 

As Liam started to suck and nibble on the rim, he grinned at the telltale shake of his lover’s thighs that Louis would later deny. His favourite part of sex with his husband was tearing away his prideful facade and making him fall apart into a soft vision that only he had the privilege of seeing. 

“Liam, so good, you make me feel so good,” Louis whined, voice breaking as Liam let his tongue invade the tiny hole.

Liam’s tongue didn’t stop going in and out, even as he thought _Toghairm_ , sending a bottle of magical lube zooming towards him. Louis’ cries became more desperate as Liam added a slick finger to ease his ministrations. Stubble scratched around his rim as he took a breather in order to playfully bite one of Louis’ plump cheeks. Louis responded by arching his back more, as he eagerly offered himself up more.

Louis felt tears stain the pillow beneath him. “Please, Li, can I— _ah_ —come?” He begged. 

Liam did not respond as he sucked harder at the top of his rim. Louis’ toes curled at the overwhelming feelings flowing through him, as the finger went deeper and faster. He felt like he might break apart as Liam added another finger, twisting and flicking in and out.

“Yes, please Liam, _please_ ,” Louis sobbed brokenly as Liam started routinely thrusting at his prostate, making his whole body twitch in pleasure.

Liam flicked his tongue once more, delighting at the constant twitches of the body underneath him. “You can come,” he whispered huskily and Louis could only respond with his back arching more in the midst of a couple more thrusts before he shot off with a shout.

Louis’ body hung splayed and loose half-off the bed as Liam takes a moment to divest himself of his clothes. He knew Louis was comfortable coming more than once, especially on their anniversary night.

“You’re so good to me, my heart, so gorgeous,” Liam murmured, voice thick and wrecked. He hauled himself onto the bed after generously covering his cock with the magical lube. Louis clutched the pillow in his arms as Liam pulled his hips up, his slackened hole quivering from the sudden emptiness.

He blinked wearily as Liam began to stroke the head of his cock over Louis’ loosened hole.

“Liam?”

“Tell me how much you want me, sunshine,” Liam said, pushing the tip of his shaft in and out of the relaxed hole.

Louis whimpered, “Want it, want to feel you, so big, _please_ Liam.”

Liam smirked, taking two handfuls of Louis’ arse and pushing the reddened cheeks together and apart around his shaft, “You beg so prettily, Louis.”

He went slowly before the head of his cock popped in, making Louis whine and scratch at the covers. With encouraging words, Liam continued feeding his long shaft inside, carving a space for himself deep inside his consort.

Louis keened as he felt his husband’s thighs against his own. “There we go, all in. So good for me, my sunshine.”

For the next few minutes, although to Louis they felt like hours, the only sounds in the room are the slick slapping of skin on skin as his husband uses him for pleasure. No matter how many times they fucked, the fullness still took Louis’ breath away.

At one point, Liam took hold of Louis by his hair, forcing his neck backwards and exaggerating the magnificent arch of his back. The position and Liam’s deep thrusts forced Louis’ high grunts to grow loud enough for anyone outside their bedroom to hear. Louis groaned, his hands now only grasping on the bedsheets for dear life, enough for one of the corners to peel off.

“So tight for me,” and “Wish everyone could see how sweet you are for me” and “Mine” left Liam’s mouth with a growl-like timbre as his thrusts became shorter and animalistic, forcing high _uh, uh, uhs_ from Louis’ mouth. 

After multiple thrusts on his prostate, Louis let out a scream from his second orgasm but Liam kept thrusting on and on. His hole became an absolute mess of aftershocks, spasming and clenching on Liam’s cock. Liam let go of Louis’ hair, pushing his head back down on the bed as his thrusts got even faster until he came as well, gushing into Louis.

Louis gasped for air, his throat hoarse and scratchy, as his thighs let out another tremble from the double feeling of being filled.

The two royals caught their breaths, the sound of heavy panting filling the space between them before Liam pulled out with a slick noise.

Louis hummed, slurring, “That’s the best anniversary sex we’ve had _ever_.”

Liam laughed, “Yes it was, love. I wish I could take you again.”

A few hours of cuddles and an enthusiastic blowjob later, Liam fed a sweetmeat to his tired out lover. Yet even though he had Louis in his arms, Liam’s mind was miles away.

It had been four years, yet his husband would still not talk much about the person who gifted him the opal ring that always hung at his bedside. All Liam knew was that Twist was somehow named after the man, although he doubted it had been his first name.

Louis whined, his limbs feeling like jelly. “ _Liam_ , I’m hungry.”

The king smiled softly at his lover who was impatiently waiting with an open mouth, his eyes scrunched.

“As you wish,” Liam murmured reverently, looking towards the feast at the side of the bed. 

Picking a tiny mince pie from the pile, he fed the pastry to Louis’ impatient mouth. Liam’s smile grew wider as he watched his love smack his lips contently. Perhaps just providing for him could be enough but—

“You’ve been avoiding talk about anniversary gifts all day, dear husband,” Louis, perceptive as ever, commented. 

Liam glanced up at the opal glinting back at him and sighed. It was almost morning, the sun peeking through their hastily-drawn curtains of golden satin; there was no better time to ask.

He opened and closed his mouth multiple times before the words finally came, “Tell me about him?”

“Who?” Louis asked quickly. He avoided Liam’s eyes, picking at his golden hands as if he had never seen them before.

The King sighed, truly feeling the stress of being a twenty-three-year-old monarch and caught in a tangle of emotions. “I know I will never truly capture your heart as he did, but,” the intensity of those blue eyes focused on only him was something he would never take for granted, “being the only son of a king meant that I grew up knowing that I would never be able to marry for love. Yet every day with you I fall for you more and more and I just want to make you as happy as I feel—”

A glittering finger touched his lips and Louis’ eyes met his, wide and earnest. “I may never love you as much as I do him, but I still love you, Liam. You gave me a home and a family in this castle,” Louis said gently. He wiped a tear away, “I never thought I could ever be this happy. You gave this to me, not him.”

“But you could still be infinitely happier with him, couldn’t you?”

Silence answered his question.

“Just tell me his name!” A look of steel passed into Louis’ eyes, “His name was Harry wasn’t it?”

Louis sat up, flinching away from him, “How—”

“You whisper his name in your sleep sometimes.” Liam looked down sadly, “I just want to make you happy,” Liam said, catching Louis angrily opened his mouth. “Happier, then,” he amended.

Liam closed his eyes as he braced himself, “What if I brought Harry here for you?”

“Li,” Louis whispered, his voice breaking, “why would you wish for something like that?”

“I would be okay if you roomed with him instead. I would be able to cope seeing you kiss him as long as I knew you were happier. As long as we stayed married the council probably wouldn’t mind. We could share you.”

“You’re too good for me, Li,” Louis said. He brushed a stray tear that escaped from Liam’s eyes. “The idea, frankly, sounds wonderful but it’s far too dangerous. Harry could be anywhere by now; gods, he could be across the sea or dead. Not to mention the fact that if he is in the lands above Solace it would be too dangerous for any of our messengers to travel with the impending war.” Louis sighed, playing with Liam’s hair. “Perhaps it is best to leave my first love in the past to keep him alive in my imagination.”

Liam nodded distantly. “Do you miss Solace?” 

Louis ran his fingers through Liam’s chocolate locks, making Liam’s eyes involuntarily blink lazily in enjoyment. He had indeed married a puppy.

“Gods, no. The only thing I really miss is my family.” A wistful smile crossed Louis’ lips, “Sometimes I wonder how my mother is doing, and the twins. I bet Fizzy is giving everyone hell now for me; she was always the mischievous one. Not as much as me, of course.”

“Of course,” Liam echoed with a wry grin. Liam perked up again as a sudden thought occurred to him. “What if I brought them here? It would provide them protection as well, and I would love to meet your mother.”

Louis bit his lip. He supposed it would not be as dangerous since his family was not being savagely hunted as Harry was — as far as Louis knew.

“That’s a yes!” Liam eagerly kissed him, bringing their lips together multiple times, ending with a swift kiss on Louis’ nose.

“You’d have to be careful to pick the right person to go! With the rumours of a Solace spy in court, it would be the perfect opening for them,” Louis warned as Liam looked one second away from dancing around the room. “Perhaps Paul?”

Liam shook his head eagerly, “No, it would have to be me!”

“You?!” Louis said with a gasp. He stood up from the bed in an instant. “But that’s much too dangerous—!”

“I’ll go in disguise! Who would expect a king in rags?” Liam said, feeling utterly elated at the prospect of meeting Louis’ family and providing his love with the ultimate token of love. He grabbed him, whisking him around the room to music only the king could hear. “This will be the best anniversary present for both of us.”

Louis sighed as wide chocolate eyes beamed back at him and his foolish husband started humming a jaunty tune. 

“Alright,” he reluctantly mumbled after a course around the room, unable to prevent himself from smiling at his husband’s antics.

*

“ _Heave her home boys, let her go boys_ ,” Harry sang as he stirred the simmering mixture in his cauldron. “ _Swing her head round into the weather, what care we boys, let her go, boys_.”

Tiny skulls and jars full of herbs and dirt lay around his dark room. An abandoned deck of tarot cards lay in a pattern from a paid reading done days ago. And everywhere, on every possible surface, were candles. Small, large, colorful, black, white, lit or unused, each candle stood proudly with a mark in elaborate calligraphy spelling out ‘HS’. Most of the candles were formed on the ship and had a shell or trinket within the wax to help the buyer’s travels.

The green goo began to bubble as Harry threw in some crow feathers along with a eucalyptus leaf.

“ _Gazing seaward from the heather, heave ahead round and we'll anchor-_ ”

“Knock knock.”

Harry fumbled, his hands flying just inches from upturning the cauldron. “Gemma! I told you not to do that!”

His sister snorted from the doorway. “It’s my duty to keep my hermit boy on his toes.” She stepped inside and looked around the room, raising her eyebrows at the mess. “You’ve only found the place a few days ago; how did it already get this messy?”

Harry shrugged noncommittally as he poured the wax into the moulds, although his heart was pounding with thoughts of what Gemma would say when she found out— 

He heard the creaking steps as his sister explored the first floor. He counted to three before he heard metal boots pounding towards the kitchen. 

“Why are there so many rooms in here?” she demanded loudly.

“Er,” Harry poked at the wax mixture in the cauldron. “I’m—maybe—making it into a Bed and Breakfast as well?”

“A _Bed and Breakfast_?” Gemma repeated incredulously before charging at him. “I agreed to let you live without protection if you laid low! That was the condition, Harry. You can’t start advertising where you are for anyone to find out; it’s too dangerous.”

“I’m being careful, Gemma!” he said defensively. “I changed my last name. And I’m living in the bloody Forest of Chaos! It’s the most sparsely populated part of the peninsula and nobody has reason to believe I’m here in the middle of nowhere.”

“Why are you making a bloody Bed and Breakfast, then? You’re going to attract the wrong kind of attention.”

Irritation rippled through him and Harry jumped to his feet, seething. “You don’t own me!” he shouted. “I don’t have to vet every single fucking thing I do to you. I don’t need you watching over me, swooping in to save the day and trying to fix the latest thing I’m doing wrong!”

Harry saw a dark shadow cross Gemma’s face and she faced him determinedly. “Oh? Well it seems like that’s all I’ve been doing for the past four years. For your whole bloody life. You’re too soft, Harry.” Gemma yelled back. “ _I_ made you this confident. _I_ taught you how to fight. Do you think I want to find you dead? Your house burned down? All your hard work burned into ashes?”

“I’m not Mum!” he yelled, the deep tone of his voice reverberating in the cramped room. “And smothering me isn’t going to bring her back!”

The sharp sting of a hand slapped at his face. The sound rang through the cottage.

Gemma’s eyes filled with tears but her voice didn’t waver, ringing with conviction. “You’re all I have left! You bastard!” 

She choked on her sobs as she fell into one of the empty chairs. Harry couldn’t help it as tears filled his eyes too; seeing his typically hardened sister sobbing into her hands made something deep inside of him tremble. His hands ached for something to do, something to fix the tension in the room.

“I-”

“It’s because of Louis, isn’t it?” Gemma asked. She let out a humourless laugh. She didn’t look at him; the subject was touchy enough for both of them. 

Harry sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Don’t.” 

Just hearing that name out loud made something ache through his chest, piercing harsher than a knife. Which was a sensation Harry had experienced.

“I told you what I scryed in the water. He got married. He’s _happy_.”

Harry shook his head fiercely, trying to shake the images from his head. “It’s not about Louis. It would take great magic to bring us together again. And,” Harry clenched his hand, the bite of his nails sinking into his palm distracting him. “You said he looked happy—that’s all I need to know. Maybe I just want to get on with my life.”

Gemma looked up at him sadly. “Getting on with your life usually doesn’t consist of being a hermit in the Forests of Chaos.”

Harry ignored that and reached to hug her. “Promise me you’ll bring some bananas back next time?”

“Always.”

*

“Are you sure you have everything? Extra boots, cloak, pen and paper to write to your smart husband when you inevitably realise this was a horrible idea?” Louis sassed, fretfully adjusting the front of Liam’s ragged cloak.

He had donned a prosthetic made of water elementals for this morning, which glowed blue and green in ever-changing shapes. He hoped drenching his husband would make him rethink this foolish plan. Concern had rung in the back of his thoughts for days now and Louis wanted to take any precautions to make his husband’s journey safer.

“I am literally magic, my love. I can summon any of those things and more.”

_If only you could summon some common sense_ , the king consort thought to himself.

“I still don’t think you should go,” Louis insisted once more. “Have Paul go in your stead. You’re too valuable to both this kingdom and me if you get captured.”

Liam chuckled, the corners of his eyes Louis loved so much crinkling. “I will be back in a fortnight, my heart.”

Louis admired his husband’s stubbornness every other time it didn’t align with his own, “I will count the days.”

The king kissed him deeply as if he was mapping Louis’ mouth mentally for the nights he would travel alone. “You are my sun and stars, and I love you from them and back.”

The king consort was used to these words from his husband yet he never failed to feel sheepish when they were said in public. He blushed heavily as Mary and Lou smiled at the pair they made. “And I love you as steadily as the earth moves, my darling.”

Louis watched in distant disapproval as Liam and Andy mounted their horses. Lou had done well to disguise the two as pauper friends instead of a king and his messenger and Louis had stared at the sight of his husband in anything but the best, most expensive cloaks and garments.

He could not help but feel dread fill his stomach as the two rode off into the distance. Something was coming and it smelled wicked.

**1 Week Later**

The wind howled as the moon and river were the only witnesses to the sharp knife plunging into flesh once and then eagerly twice more. The human man choked and fell to his knees as the demon struck the knife made of the sharpest bone gold could buy.

The river burbled nervously and swiftly swept the fresh blood dripping inside her further downstream. The man’s leg kicked out in a desperate, if futile bid to escape just as the demon punctured his skin with razor-like fangs. The man’s eyes drained of colour, becoming blank and unseeing, and he stilled, succumbing to the demon’s wrath and hunger. His soul fled lost in a land far from his home and his being would never know of the pain and savagery it had endured at the hands of the demon.

Sy Mon sucked his teeth, savoring the warm taste of blood. He loved playing with his food.

The demon in holy robes summoned a sharp piece of bone and a jar of ink from his quarters in the Red Waste. He pondered the words that would most satisfyingly hurt the prophesied babe as he used the bone to pick out some of his last meal from his teeth. 

Servants were especially gamey during this time of year. Sy Mon would have loved to have taken a bite out of the king the boy loved so much, but he had more—well—elaborate plans for him.

He kicked over the body on the ground—Andrew he believed his name was—and drew out the scroll which the king had given the boy.

_My heart_ , it read, _I have made it to the town of Larchville and I now realize how you beat me in all our races together. The hill and forest on which you were reared are as beautiful and steep as you described — although none can compete with your beauty. Your sisters and mother are all well, thank the gods, and your mother has recently reared an additional set of twins. You should be happy to hear that you finally have a brother, Ernest, who will be sure to grow into his big brother’s good looks._

_I will be staying an extra day to help your family pack for the journey, but I am confident that we will make it by the time I promised. They are most looking forward to seeing you once again. We shall be home no later than three days later from when you receive this missive._

_Every night I dream of your soft skin and laughter. Until we meet again,_

_King Liam James the third of his name_

Sy Mon raised his eyebrow at the signature and the wax seal. The king was indeed daft if he trusted this missive to a mere servant boy in enemy land. In the wrong hands, one could use the letter to instigate a war. But they had bigger plans. 

With a deft claw, the demon peeled away the king’s official wax seal from the parchment and burned the letter. 

A few hours and a full meal later, a handsome bearded man with chocolate eyes covered up with ratty robes sauntered up to the mail outpost in the center of Larchville. He headed towards the youngest worker, already astride his horse.

“Sorry sir, we only accept mail until sundown,” the teenage boy said, not looking up from his bag.

“Oh?” an unearthly voice purred, “not even for the price of 300 gold pieces?”

The scruffy man looked up, hunger in his eyes, to see a sack stamped with the Vallinel crest. 

“ _Vallinel?_ ” The boy didn’t pay much attention to his lessons, but he knew well enough that it would be treasonous to interact with anyone suspected of possessing magical blood.

“I’ll throw in another 300 if you make it to Crystalhaven in under two days.” The sinister look in the man’s eyes—earnest and imploring—sent a shiver up the messenger boy’s spine. “Tell them I, Liam, sent it.”


	5. "Where Shall I Go?"

Louis’ dry eyelids quivered in defiance before finally acquiescing in a blink. The dark beast in front of him neighed in triumph as Twist won yet another round in their daily staring matches.

With Court out of season and the local royals and his husband gone, the city felt both barren and boring. It had been over a week since Liam’s departure, yet Louis had already tired of hawking, riding, and causing trouble all by his lonesome. It was simply no fun without Liam there to chastise or encourage or entertain him. And the thought of seeing his family once again — though uplifting — was not enough to see him through the lonlier days roaming the castle grounds.

Louis supposed he could listen to Paul and look over some of the budget for the coming Spring, but he hated sitting still for so long. Hence why he was hiding in the stables, although at this point it wasn’t the best hiding place. The royal consort huffed, causing his unstyled fringe to blow up. 

He also could not let Lou, his personal assistant, find him anytime soon given the state of his dress. She would absolutely have a cow if she could see the fine fabric dusted with dirt, although he couldn’t see the problem with all the cleaning spells readily available at his fingertips.

He had been so lonely without Liam’s presence he had not even noticed the formal wear he had picked after getting out of bed. Either way, wearing his favourite sky blue tunic and gold breeches had made the dull day go by a bit faster. Louis had never given much thought to clothes before becoming royal, other than the purple cloak he always wore, but now he adored commissioning his own designs. 

Liam loved to call him a ‘faerie prince’ when he wore the outfit, as the swirling golden embroidery along with the light pigment offset his skin making him appear “ethereal”. 

The heavy thuds of an angry staff member resonated from just outside the doors. Louis quickly pushed the button on his cloak to turn invisible. Ha! 

“Your Majesty,” Lou burst into the pegasi stables startling the less observant pegasus. The dark pegasus let out a reproachful snort and flew up to another landing. “I know you’re in here, sire. We have finally received a letter from the king!” 

Louis’ heart leapt in excitement and he jumped up and quickly unclicked the button. As he followed Lou up the hill, Louis pondered what the subject of the letter contained. He hoped that his family were all alive and well, and that Liam had not been injured or recognised on his travels. He looked down, trying to contain a smile as he pictured his husband overwhelming his mother with his energetic personality. He could see Liam asking countless questions about Larchville and Louis’ childhood.

As the pair walked into the throne room, he was surprised to see Mary, Paul, and countless other servants crowding the harried messenger. Louis knew how loved Liam was by the whole castle staff, but it did warn his heart that everyone was equally anxious for the king’s wellbeing and desperate to hear any news that the letter might contain.

As Louis settled into his throne, more of the staff gathered into the chamber. It was a pity none of the royals were at the palace; they would need to be debriefed on Liam’s safety later.

After a last grumble for attention, Paul broke the wax seal marked by the Vallinel seal characterized by a set of arrows. “ _Dear subjects of my beloved Vallinel_ ,” Paul started, making a slightly confused face at the lack of endearments to Louis. The King was well known to make up and bestow sweet nicknames to the consort as a token of his affection.

“ _The state of evil and unrest in Solace is far greater than I first believed, yet what is truly disgusting is that the Solace spy we have been wary of has been under our noses all this time._ ” 

Several gasps rang out through the hall. 

Mary, the head cook who Louis considered a close confidant, moved to clutch at his shoulder. Had Liam truly been captured? 

“ _I was able to escape their clutches with nothing but vital information. Unfortunately, Andy didn’t make it,_ ” Paul looked at Andy’s mother, the laundress, with sympathy as she clutched her husband’s hand, eyes brimming with unshed tears and a quiet gasp escaping her lips.

“ _Vallinel is in grave danger and imminent war is upon us. Which is why I implore you to follow these directions. The spy who is threatening our kingdom is_ —” Paul choked.

“Who is it?” Mary called from behind Louis. 

Paul made no motion to respond as he stared at the paper as if his eyes alone could erase the contents of the letter. 

Lou huffed and tore the letter out of his hand, “Let’s see — Oh.” A hand came up to her mouth as she read the sentence out slowly, “ _Louis. The imposter tricked us with his infernal and wicked ways. None feel as violated as I, which is why with a heavy heart, I order to have the treasonous boy killed._ ”

Exclamations rang out throughout the hall. Louis sat frozen in horror, a cold dread washing through him. The chair no longer felt like a throne but instead an execution stand. This couldn’t be happening. Liam couldn’t—

Louis’ thoughts were whirling in rapid succession but Mary’s hand kept him on his throne.

Lou read on, “ _In order for me to be sure the job has been done, first gouge out his eyes and cut off his tongue along with my golden hands for me to inspect upon my return. Once these hands that were once a token of my misplaced love are gone, he will no longer be a member of our court. Do not be tricked by his lecherous ways as I have._ ”

_His_ golden hands? Louis shook his head as a lump came to his throat. This was what he deserved for trusting another so blindly. Nothing in this new life really belonged to him in the end, everything around him was just on borrowed time to a master he had loved. Perhaps it would have been better to have married the demon, at least that way there would have been no surprises. He had let his naivety guide him and had to now confront the horrific consequences.

“ _I do not care if the deed is done before or after his death, but be sure to burn the body afterward. Who knows what infernal magic the charlatan possesses? I feel no affection for the creature. I will return in three days and I expect all of the beast’s hands to remain in the castle. Anyone who assists the spy will be given the same treatment as him. Signed King Liam James the third of his name._ ”

Louis did not know when the tears started, they distorted his vision making him easy game for the hunters around him. Louis couldn’t move; he couldn’t breathe. He should have expected that nothing good could stay. But—The thought of Liam, the man he shared his bed with for the past four years, casting him off like this so coldly did not sit well with him. Liam had promised he would _never_ take his hands away— What did he do that caused Liam to treat him this way?

“Do you know what must be done?” Lou sharply said, looking straight at Mary.

Louis looked up sharply, as he shook in fear. “No, no, no,” he whispered.

Mary squeezed his shoulder and nodded, “Aye, it means we’re having venison for dinner.”

Louis could not hear anything beyond the blood rushing through his ears as he saw Paul and Lou walking closer to him. Louis put his arms behind him, hidden from sight underneath the cloak so they could not see the gold hands. “Please, don’t, it’s not me, please— No! Don’t kill me—”

“Kill you?” Lou whispered tears in her eyes. “We never saw you, the king consort can turn invisible, don’t y’know? Always getting into trouble, he is.”

“What?” Louis croaked as none of them made any sudden moves towards him. “But the king ordered— His seal—”

“The king isn’t you. You’re one of us, our very own Cinderella.” Paul responded. “I think of Liam as my own, and this isn’t him.”

“Do you really—?” Louis smiled fearfully, as he swiped away some of his tears, casting his eyes around the chamber. Everyone who was left was looking at him without malice.

Lou cut Paul a sharp look, “We can’t say for sure, but either way, even if it is our Liam, we are on your side. The king will come around and we will convince him of what we know to be the truth.”

Mary looked at Paul, “Go find a young deer and gouge out its eyes and tongue. We’ll just burn the bones. No point in wasting the meat.”

Lou nodded and offered a hand to pull Louis out of his seat. “We’ll pack you some simple clothes that no one’ll miss and the purple cloak you came here with. Unfortunately,” her smile became tight, “We can’t gift you with those golden hands.”

Louis looked down at the sparkling apparatus. The prosthetics had become a symbol of his new life and love that he shared with his husband and the protection they gave him. But more than that, they represented that he could survive and be independent. Yet here he was again dependent on others as an invalid, unable to trust the very person who had gifted them to him.

“Do you know where you’ll go?” Lou asked tearfully.

Solace was definitely out of the question. If this was indeed Liam, this meant someone was framing him and possibly his family for the tension between the nations. Yet the only place easily accessible otherwise was the Red Waste, which was also out as it was a land full of demons and infernal creatures. The only other avenue he could consider was—

“I think the Forests of Chaos are your best bet,” Mary chimed in. “Chaos ain’t all that bad, the best trickster in the land should know that.”

Louis sniffled although his new tears were borne from happiness and thanks instead of dread. He appreciated his closest friends in Vallinel, although he didn’t know if he would ever see them again.

“You know,” Paul spoke up gruffly, the large man visibly holding back tears, “I think one of the pegasi disappeared around the same time as you did, don’t you think?”

“Twist?” Louis hastily wiped another tear, “Paul-”

“Think of it as a parting gift,” Paul said before the large man finally gave in to his tears. He clasped Louis’ shoulder, almost knocking him over with one hand. “The very least we can do to provide you with some level of protection and a means of travel.”

*

The boy without hands flew by crystal mansions and green pastures and ranches full of unicorns. He didn’t see the gnomes waving at the glistening pegasus underneath him. His dry eyes didn’t notice when the landscape lit up with sparkling fireflies as the sun went down and the dusty purples and orange hues were covered by a sweeping blanket of darkness.

That is until everything stopped and he felt a hand on his shoulder. Louis stared at the brown hand, glistening with rings older than the hill he grew up on. The Seelie Prince wore a patient expression that could have only been obtained after several centuries of experience. He must have been saying his name for a while.

“You cast your second wish, Louis,” he spoke softly. “What would you like me to do?”

The Seelie’s stubble reminded him of Liam’s, the prickly hair that would arise on the occasional lazy morning. The knot in Louis’ stomach loosened as he studied Zayn’s face further, everything else about him was different from Liam though. The fact was slightly comforting—

“Oh, absolutely not,” the prince spoke firmly, seemingly able to tell where Louis’ thoughts were heading. “Aside from the fact that I do not feel sexual love, you should not be attaching yourself to someone else at the moment.”

“You don’t—?” Louis had never heard of the concept before. He knew his mother had never truly loved any of her husbands, but he had always thought that she was holding out for the one. A concept that had always aligned with green eyes since he was young.

Zayn sighed and plopped down on the grass. Louis, or Twist rather, decided this was the perfect time to take a break in a meadow abundant with tiny flowers. The black pegasus was happily crunching on a bunch of Chrysanthemums before prancing to a patch of violets.

“I said that I used to check up on you, sometimes at the wrong time.” Zayn nodded at Louis’ growing blush. “I’ve just never been interested in sex. Romance? _Love_ that.” Zayn smirked as Louis involuntarily let out a laugh. Who knew a Seelie Prince could like puns? “After a few centuries my family finally accepted that if I had not been interested in sex yet, I must be telling the truth.” The Seelie prince dusting some grass off of his purple robes, “So, pray tell, what’s your second wish? This is the last one you get, so I advise you to choose wisely.”

“I only have two wishes?” Louis raised a brow, “Are you some discount djinn as well as a prince?”

Zayn laughed, picking a marigold and holding it out to a curious Twist, who sniffed it warily. “No, I am simply capping my help at two wishes. There is no point in life if you don’t get to save yourself for once. Think of me as a sort of training wheels. So what will it be, my king consort?”

Louis sighed. He didn’t want to think about what he was going to do. The day had been long and draining. Choosing his fate would cement the fact that the life he left with Liam was officially over, for now. “I don’t think I’m a king consort anymore...How old are you anyway? You mentioned centuries like they were months.”

Zayn raised a brow in return, firmly aware of Louis’ diversion. “I suppose I’m about,” he scrunched his face, closing his eyes in concentration, “well, at least four-hundred years old by now?”

“You scoundrel!” A wildly familiar voice resonated across the dark field, “How could you forget the six-hundredth birthday party I put together for you!”

“You!” Louis pointed with his stump.

“Oh no,” the Prince of the Sun Elves muttered as an irate king consort hurtled toward him.

“How! The hell! Did you! Never tell me! You were a bloody prince!” With each yell, Louis smacked him.

“It never came up.” Niall calmly replied. 

Louis hit him again. 

“I like your hair,” Zayn remarked from the ground.

“Thanks! Sy Mon kept making me dye it so I’d _stand_ out among the infernal servants. Fucking creep.” He plopped beside Zayn and poked his ear, making the Seelie prince flinch. “Thanks for never trying to break me out, you git.”

Louis lost his fiery wind, looking between them in confusion. “Wait, you two know each other?”

“Oh definitely! Our parents kept trying to set us up together since we were little, around your age. You know, magical princes and all.” Niall took one of Zayn’s hands nonchalantly and played with his fingers. “We’ve cuddled loads though. So I guess it worked.”

Zayn had a coughing fit as he choked on his spit, “Gods, Niall!”

Louis laughed. It was fun getting to see the usually posh and reserved Seelie prince act almost human. “Do you have any embarrassing stories to share?”

Zayn quickly tried to smother Niall, but amidst the giggles, the sun elf managed to piece together a story of young Zayn crying after a satyr suitor ate a bouquet he was forced to offer her.

(“I didn’t understand that was what satyrs eat! I thought I’d done something wrong!” Zayn’s protests went unheard.)

As their laughter went down, a thought came to Louis, “Niall, how did you know where we were?”

“Oh I’ve been watching you,” he said genially. The elf didn’t seem to know how creepy the statement came out. “Once I saw Zayn next to you, I knew it was time to join.”

“It was time?” Louis racked his brain, “It’s something to do with one of the prophecies.” The boy without hands fell into the grass, “Fuck the prophecies!”

“I would definitely agree with you if you weren’t currently a fugitive,” Niall munched on the back of a Honeysuckle. “But since Sy Mon and the other demons are following the prophecies to a T, we should try to follow them as well so you don’t die. Because they’ll find you. And—”

“Alright, “Louis groaned, causing Twist to snuffle at his hair affectionately. “What is this prophecy about?”

The two Princes looked at each other, exchanging a silent conversation. Zayn let out a disgruntled sigh and stuck his tongue at the brunette. 

“Fine. One of the lines pronounces that _Venus and Pluto will accompany the boy to find the origin of the stone in the heart of Chaos_. We’re thinking that means the Forests of Chaos.”

That was fine, Louis had already decided to go to the Forests of Chaos, “I suppose you two are Venus and Pluto? What do they mean by the _origin of the stone_? What is the rest of the prophecy?”

The two Princes exchanged glances once more, before Niall responded loudly, “You don’t need to worry about it.”

“But—” The other two avoided his eyes. “Fine,” Louis sighed. “Well then, Zayn I wish for you to keep me safe from harm on this journey to the Forests of Chaos.”

“Ace,” Zayn produced a cigar from thin air and started walking away, “Niall will make our sleeping ground for tonight.”

“Alright, grumpy!” Niall hollered, the Seelie vanished into the night. “It’s nice to see you again, Lou. I’m glad you healed well, and you seem much happier. Well, in the mirror you did, not right now.”

“Oh, thanks. I suppose.” Louis tried to smile but just remembering the last time he saw Niall reminded him of Liam once more. 

“He didn’t send the letter you know, it was all Sy Mon. None of the words in the letter were Liam’s. Well, except for the signature.” Niall knelt down on the ground and placed his hands on the earth, making it spew golden light. “I mean I’m not sure if Liam’s alive, I was only watching Sy Mon, but I’m sure he still loves you if he is.”

Louis’ eyes were unconventionally dry as a torrent of emotions went through him.

“You didn’t _love_ love him, though, right? Not like Harry.” Niall tried to cheer Louis up, a creaking sound resonating through the field as the ground gave in to the Magic.

Twist trotted over to Louis’ side and nudged him playfully with concerned eyes. Louis ran his stumps through his black mane, making the pegasus neigh happily.

“I suppose I loved him in a way,” Louis confessed quietly. “I mean, he made me very happy. But no, it was never anything close to what I feel, or er, felt, with Harry.”

Niall hummed. “You know, Zayn might act like a mysterious prince who’s sneaking out to help you without his family knowing. But really, his parents know exactly where he is. They think he’s courting you.”

Louis let out a great guffaw and turned back around. His laughter turned into a gasp as he saw the magic Niall had done while he was going through a turmoil of emotions. The earth had risen into a dome-like structure, the roof was covered with woven grass and magnificent flowers, a large hole formed as a door arose. The structure looked other-worldly — to the Solace-born Louis at least — but Niall took his silence differently.

“Yeah, I know the inside is all dirt. I’m just going to ask Zayn to transmute it to wood or something. I’m kind of bad at that stuff, only really good with elemental magic. But yes, they’ve been encouraging him to marry you because of the prophecies and the power you hold. So I thought I would help solve that mess by coming here to court Zayn instead.” Niall tried to keep Twist away from eating their shelter, “Hope that’s okay.”

“Er,” Louis’ eyes followed Niall’s fallen form as he lost to the pegasus, leaving a happy Twist free to eat some of the petals that formed the windows. “Alright?”

“Fantastic!” Niall crowed, sounding quite sincere. His brown hair caught the attention of Twist’s inquisitive snout.

“What did you promise him?” Zayn drawled, coming out of the shadows. “Don’t believe anything he says. I never had a bat phase.”

Niall put his fingers in his mouth like fangs and hissed. Zayn whacked him on the head, before stepping into the entrance of the risen mound of earth.

“What is this? A pig sty?” he raised, raising his eyebrows and looking pointedly unimpressed.

The inside of the shelter glowed dark purple as the Seelie transmuted the dirt into amethyst. 

Niall rolled his eyes as a whiff of lavender arose from inside, “You’ve gotten more over the top this century, Z.”

Zayn summoned a large futon, “Well I didn’t have you to judge me for it all the time while you were camping with a demon.” 

Niall jumped up with a delighted grin on his face, “You _missed_ me, you softie-”

“ _No, I didn’t_. Come on, Louis get ready for bed. This week will surely be trying, and we’ll need all the rest we can get.”

*

“ _I believe I can fly, I believe I can touch the sky_ ,” Niall sang the folk song once again behind Zayn as the trio flew across the Great Plains.

The Seelie prince grunted, “If you don’t stop singing that horrible elf song, I will make you wish you were mortal.”

“Oooo,” Niall crooned, cackling with laughter. “Threaten me more, big guy.”

“I’m grounding you two if you do not behave,” Louis shouted over the blustering wind, his eyes never leaving the horizon.

Now that he had company and close to the border of Vallinel, the future no longer seemed so bleak. Since Niall had been added to the crew, Louis questioned his earlier judgement of Zayn’s character. Instead of the stoic Seelie he had thought the prince to be, Zayn was acting like a blushing fool every time Niall looked away. It brought a smile to Louis’ face just to know that love or something that looked like it was still alive and well. Even if he wasn’t experiencing it himself at the moment.

Fleetingly, a thought of Harry entered his mind, but it disappeared just as quickly. It was weird, was it not, that even though he had not seen Harry for almost five years, the image of him was seared into his mind. Louis wondered if Harry had ended up growing out his hair if he still did the little scrunchy move with his nose when he felt nervous if he even remembered him. If he was alive. 

Louis blinked, tearing up only at the wind rushing past, and stared out at the clouds. It seemed like the sun had just been out, yet it had suddenly grown so dark—

_Boom! Crash!_

Lightning and thunder struck close by as the sky broke, drenching them all instantly. Louis tightened his legs on Twist’s flank as the pegasus fell out of shock. He could hear Niall screams, distantly harmonizing with Twist’s frightened neighing.

The boy without hands laid his head along his pegasus’ wet mane as he clucked his tongue into his ear. Louis was thankful he did not have hands that could betray the shaky feeling in his chest as they rapidly fell closer to the ground.

“Shhh, Twist, it’s fine. I’m here, Twist. Shhh.” 

The pegasus reared his mane, nuzzling his owner’s head at the nonsense words that flooded out the crashing noises around them. Pegasi normally didn’t understand English, but Twist considered himself smarter than the rest. He had learned the sound that came out gentler and softer — the tw — sound would often cause him to flick his ears, as he understood the word meant something more in his owner’s life. 

As rain and lightning poured down, thinning Twist’s perspective to just his riders, the pegasus tried to concentrate on the sounds of the human he loved so dearly. The human who would feed him apples while he cried to him, the emotions reverberating through his hide as the prince would cry on his flank. The human who would keep him safe even though the man with the crown would pull and scratch on his mane in fear.

In the next moment, his wings flew out, causing the trio to glide instead of fall to their demise. But as they kept gliding downward, Twist let out a worried whinny as he noticed his wings were too wet to get them higher than they were before the rain had started.

Louis seemed to notice the same as he patted Twist’s flank reassuringly, “Just get us down on land safely, you’re doing so well Twist.”

“Er, I’m not sure if that’s possible, Louis,” the Seelie’s hands clenched around Louis’ waist as they descended rapidly towards a waterfall.

Twist seemed to notice their landing spot at the same time as the prince, as he tried to redirect them away. Yet the crystalline waters were still rapidly getting closer, the gushing water drowning out whatever Niall tried to say. Louis only felt as Zayn’s arms were ripped away from his waist before cold water surrounded him.

Everything went black.

*

Louis found his way to consciousness slowly, the taste of salt and iron on his lips. He registered from the silence that the storm had stopped. Something warm was beside him as a fire crackled and popped somewhere nearby. The most curious thing was the smell of the fire, it smelled like the fires in the Twist home, something that could only come from a fire made by a witch bound to Circe.

Could it be?

Louis sat up quickly, and immediately regretted it as a wave of nausea hit him as the world went topsy-turvy for a moment. He was in a makeshift tent beside a still sleeping Twist, his legs still twitching in the midst of what Louis hoped was a nice dream. One of Twist’s legs was wrapped with linen and a splint. His pegasus was truly sweet and courageous, just like his namesake.

“I will get you all the apples and roses for you to eat, I promise, Twist,” he whispered into the pegasus’s ear as he pet his mane.

As he stepped out of the tent, he registered the sound of cheering and a lyre being played. A group of unknown men, dressed as pirates, were sitting around a fire along with a jovial and already drunk Niall and a beleaguered Zayn.

“Lou! High time for you to be up, you missed all the action!” Niall crowed, from his seat.

Zayn glared from beside him, as he hissed, “I had to deal with all of this alone. That wasn’t included in your wish.”

One of the men laughed at that, “Seelies are so funny! You would think that living so damn long would make your lot more friendly. Why don’t you grant a wish for me on the floor, sweetheart.” 

Zayn shuffled uneasily away, as the pirate leered at him.

Niall’s gaze turned cold, “Don’t ever speak to Zayn again or I’ll tie you up in that tree with your own intestines, as you beg for the sweet release of death. But I’ll make sure you feel every minute of your death, as you reflect on the worthlessness of your life.”

A moment passed as Niall stared the pirate down until the man looked away and sat down very far away from the two princes. 

Louis reminded himself to never truly get on Niall’s bad side.

“Anyway!” Niall bounced back, his grin returning as if he had never threatened to tear out a human’s bodily organs. “These guys grabbed us from the river and tried to rob us, but then I was like, ‘No. Thou art being robbed, sluts!’ And then I summoned my rapier and we fought and I got their horses.” 

Niall turned his lyre back into a rapier as he mimed attacking them, making the earlier outspoken pirate turn white.

“But then! When we were tying up these men, I remembered that I don’t know how to ride a horse. But Zayn was really sweet and said he would let me ride behind him,” He added smiling at the Seelie, causing him to go bright red and murmur that it was the honourable thing to do. 

“Oh, but then one of the pirates said their captain was trying to recruit magical beings and said that capturing them might get us on the crew too. So we’ve been waiting for Twist and you to wake up, so we can go up meet this Captain Styles.”

“We’re not just leaving you to become pirates,” Zayn seemed to take Louis’ silence as dismay. “We also talked about how a sky pirate ship could make our trip go faster, especially with Twist’s broken leg. They say Captain Styles makes a stop to the Forests of Chaos regularly, so it wouldn’t be any trouble.”

A smile grew on Louis’ face as he thanked the gods that he had met these two magical beings. “That sounds perfect.”

_*_

Unlike Niall and Zayn, Louis had opted to get to the ship via pegasus instead of by ladder, due to the lack of thumbs of course. Louis wondered if there was a witch on board who could make him some new prosthetics. Yet at the same time the thought of owing somebody else a debt made Louis shake his head, no he’d have to do it himself. 

_Gouge out his eyes and cut off his tongue along with my golden hands for me to inspect._ The king’s words rolled in his head. His hands, as if Louis had been a pet to fuck and dress up in finery and prosthetics. Shame rolled through Louis’ chest. Even if that letter had not been penned by Liam, perhaps there were other nobles in Vallinel who viewed him that way. 

_Isn’t it so lovely that the King has taken in a stray? He doesn’t even have hands, the poor thing. King Liam is truly charitable to take in the disabled waif as his ward._ Perhaps that was what the nobles whispered about him as they got ready for court. They always seemed to coo a bit too much when Liam called him sweet pet names.

And the worst thing was, Louis let himself be treated this way. Even though he knew the theocracy in Solace was becoming harsher and harsher, he had no thoughts of contacting his family. He had never taught himself to sword fight or fight magic. The king’s consort simply made flower crowns, rode pegasi, and pulled pranks. The perfect piece of entertainment.

Louis wondered how many servants and nobles had heard him beg for Liam’s dick at night. How many of them heard the disabled whore play his part. Perhaps that was all he was, a forever helpless victim.

Twist let out a whiny as they went up into a cloud, breaking him out of his thoughts. The cold vapor made him shiver, he had never ventured above the clouds when riding with Twist. Perhaps the Solace priests were right that the God-the-Holiest lived up here, watching everyone with judgement.

If they were right, Louis was sure he would be smited on the spot for being wrong. Or perhaps Sy Mon lived here, he doubted he could escape his clutches now. Louis wasn’t pure of soul or body anymore, his heart had been hardened with shame and sadness.

Louis bit his lip, what if he just— fell? No one would miss him, Twist wouldn’t be able to tell with the distraction of evaporated water all around them. He would no longer have to deal with the feeling that he was drowning in his rising emotions. Both Niall and Zayn were immortal as far as he knew, what did another short, meaningless human life ending mean to them?

He would no longer have to deal with prophecies anymore. Prophecies that tore him from a life with Harry. Louis let out a whimper as he mind tortured him once more with thoughts of what his life could have been like if he had just been normal. If he could have had a stable home with fathers who wouldn’t leave, if he could have married Harry, if he could have kept his hands.

Why couldn’t he cry? Louis smacked his face, he wanted these feelings out of him. He wanted to cut out his heart.

Just then, Twist burst out of the clouds. Boy and pegasus alike dropped their jaws as a massive scarlet ship floated above them. It must have been twice the size of the castle in Crystalhaven. The wood had certainly seen better days but the fresh coat of paint and wax made the ship shine. Glittering brass poles waved a massive black flag with the well-known skull and bones symbol of pirates. The only difference from stories Louis had heard of pirates was a painted-on smile in green paint on the skull, along with a rune in the same colour that seemed oddly familiar.

“That’s him!” Niall’s loud voice declared from above. Niall and Zayn’s familiar smiling faces greeted him on deck along with-

“Gemma!”

Louis tumbled off of Twist before the pegasus could land as he sprinted towards his childhood friend. Two pirates unsheathed their swords and blocked him from getting any closer. One of the pirates sent him a glare that would have shriveled his insides if Louis could feel anything other than shock.

“Gem!” He yelled again, to the unmoving figure. It had to be her, she looked so much like _him_.

The figure in red flinched for a moment from where she was frozen, “Let him through, gals.”

Once the metal barricade dropped, Louis moved as soon Gemma did. He couldn’t tell who embraced who first, but he had a mouthful of brunette hair as his shoulder got wet from her tears.

“What are you doing here?” Gemma exclaimed, brushing her hair away. “I thought you married the king-”

“How did you know?” Louis hid his arms behind his back as she looked him over.

Gemma gave him a pointed look, “I’m the daughter of a witch, Lou, I know how to scry.”

Oh. Louis wondered if she had told Harry, although that wouldn’t be likely. Neither of them knew where Gemma had gone when she ran away that night.

“I was wondering where you got those fancy gloves from the king that I saw. I’m so glad so many of us got out of Solace! You really won the lottery, did you not Lou? Becoming royalty and all.” Gemma grinned, stepping away and taking him in. “So let us see your golden threads! Are you on vacation from Vallinel? Where’s your husband?”

Niall let out an obvious hiss at that question, causing Zayn to glare at him for his lack of subtlety.

Louis unfolded his arms in front of him, showing what he was lacking, “I suppose you could say me and him are separated at the moment.”

Without prelude, Gemma tugged him towards an isolated corner of the ship, like they were children trading gossip once more. “Go sweep the poop deck or whatever you do when I’m not watching,” she hissed to the nosy first mates. Gemma’s bodyguard, the blonde pirate who had glared at him, sniggered before moving away to the tend to one of the sails.

“Did he do this to you?” Gemma hissed under her breath, the wind almost drowning her out.

It took a moment for Louis to realize who she was referring to, “Oh, no. It was...my previous fiance, I guess. One of the people who believe in the prophecies came to collect, well, me.”

Gemma paused, “So you’ve been disabled long before you married the king of Vallinel?”

He didn’t want to think of Liam and another life he had lost right now. Nor did he want to think of the charity case the king must have considered him to be. Instead, he chose to look out among the clouds as he leaned against the side of the ship, not knowing he was standing in the same spot Harry had been months ago.

Misreading his silence, Gemma started smiling, “Wow, I know my brother always had his eyes on you but I never would have guessed Mr Toadstools could have caught the eye of royalty! Too bad I can’t cash in on any perks—”

“I am worthless!” Louis shouted, the words bursting out of his chest. They felt like they had been bottled up before this wedding, before the garden, before—

Gemma broke him out of his thoughts, “What are you talking about?”

Louis closed his eyes, he could not take this. “You don’t need to beat around the bush. I don’t have hands, Gemma. I can’t hold my beloved’s hands and I cannot feel their life beat under my fingers. I am no worth to anyone, and I am not the same Louis you know. I am nothing—”

“You think I’ve never had people on my ship who’ve lost their limbs in battle? What do you reckon I do with them? Do you think the Gemma you grew up would throw them off her ship?”   
At Louis’ sullen silence, the captain nodded towards the blonde pirate, “Did you know Bebe lost her leg a few years before I recruited her? She got too sick in a small town far away from any healers. Solace folks said that she was cursed for laying with the mayor’s daughter,” Gemma scoffed and spit into the air below. 

“Any witch her salt would have known that her blood just wasn’t regulating properly, so of course the leeches weren’t going to help. Her mother sawed off her leg herself, and then sent Bebes on her merry way. Cited that she wouldn’t be caught harboring a ‘dirty one’ as long as her death wasn’t on her conscience.”

Louis looked down, feeling pressure building up behind his eyes. “What did she do? Where did she go?” He guessed that she had turned to begging until Gemma had rescued her—

Gemma cackled at a memory, loud enough to catch the attention of the blonde girl they were talking about. Judging by how she was watching Gemma, Louis could guess that there was some sort of history between the two.

“By the time I happened upon her, she had acquired a sword and was holding up merchant towns bordering the Red Wastes. Quite different from how I found Harry,” Louis looked up, his eyes wide. She had seen Harry? 

Gemma held up a finger, “Don’t get ahead of me, Louis. I know as soon as I let you know where he is, you’re going to go to him, but I’m not sure that’s the best thing for either of you now.”

Louis opened his mouth to protest, only for Gemma to physically shush him with a finger to his mouth.

“I could sense your self-loathing before I even recognized you, Lou. I thought you might have been happy from the scenes in the mirror, but I suppose you were tricking yourself as well as me.”

Louis closed his head and shook his eyes, “I don’t really want to think about...him right now.”

Gemma tilted her head softly, “The world hasn’t been kind to you since I saw you last, huh, Louis?”

Louis could feel his walls breaking at the tender voice of his childhood friend. The sobs ripped out of him painfully as snot ran down his face. He felt multiple arms wrap around him as he cried. He cried for the future that he lost, he cried for the future that he had been given. Louis cried to feel again.

As Louis’ vision cleared, his sobs growing fainter, he noticed that the sky had grown dark. Zayn was conked out on the ground below him and he was sitting on a bench next to Niall and Gemma. 

He had just cried on these magical beings for perhaps hours. Louis could feel heat building in his cheeks, “I’m sorry—” 

“Don’t apologize for letting your emotions out, Lou.” Gemma put a threatening finger in his face. “But you should apologize for hating my kid brother’s first love. I want my payment in the form of you agreeing to keep fighting and love yourself!”

“Why is it in the form of payments?” Niall scrunched up his face, the dark color of his hair making his pale skin stick out more in the night.

Gemma put her hand behind the sun elf’s ear and pulled out three gold coins from thin air, “I’m a pirate, dear.” The pirate captain quickly pocketed the coins, “It’ll take about a month to get to Harry’s location, by that time I would appreciate having my installments paid in full.”

Louis laughed feeling freer than he had in, fuck, years. Perhaps he really had been lying to himself when he told Liam he was happy all those years. How could anyone truly be happy while being observed by a whole kingdom like a doll confined in finery?

Gemma kicked the sleeping Zayn on the ground, thoroughly waking him up, “I like this one so you can earn your keep by helping the girls around the ship. As for you,” the pirate queen sniffed at Niall’s fine jacket embroidered by gold, “three gold coins per day. I’ll collect more tomorrow.”

“Wait, what?” Niall reached down at the bag of coins hanging from his belt. “Were those from my inventory?” The elf shouted across the deck, “Hey! Hot witch pirate lady! I was talking to you!” 

Louis laughed as he watched Niall chase a stoic Gemma. The witch sent a magical blast through the air and Niall went tumbling in the air. 

Maybe having his head in the skies would be good for him, Louis thought.

*

Harry waved at the receding back of the troll who had stayed at his Bed and Breakfast for the past week. Whoever started the rumor that trolls couldn’t carry a conversation due to their lack of brain space had clearly never met one. Carolina had talked his ear off about her journey to find herself so she didn’t have to sit under a bridge just like her brothers.

It had been refreshing to have another person to talk to him during his day. He had been right to assume that people rarely ventured into the Forest of Chaos. So far he had only magical folk, and although most of them were fun to interact with, the snootiness of his high elf customers were definitely getting to him. Harry turned back to his kitchen now that he had no other guests to socialize with.

Since he rarely had visitors who wanted to sleep in his inn, Harry was glad for his candle business to keep him busy. The witch carefully shimmied another mould off of the quickly cooling wax. After blowing light air at his pointer finger, his nail turned a hot orange causing sparks to spring forth. Harry speedily marked a cautionary protection rune followed by a powerful wisdom rune on the wax, before the spell could burn at his flesh. The white candle held a Tiger’s Eye as in its center — a special order that would hopefully allow Taqo to pass his exams. The fretful wizard was one of his best customers.

He whistled a high note causing his finger to extinguish and leave behind a beautiful pattern of swirls around the rune. “Perfect…” Harry trailed off, examining his work as he brushed off some of the crusty flakes of wax.

Rows and rows of candles lined the walls behind him. Some were shaped like animals, which Harry was quite proud of. Who knew he could be such an artist? Others were long enough to touch the ceiling. And even more were connected in a trio, ready to feed off each others warmth, symbolizing their power to connect the souls who lighted them. Each and every one of them was imbued with magic, which could be easily observed by a candle lion yawning and grooming itself in a patch of sunlight.

But Harry’s favorite candles that he liked to make were the scented kind. He liked to make them smell like the forest, woodsy in all aspects except the color. The first time Gemma had seen the candles all in a range of blues, Harry knew he had been caught. Some of them reflected the shade of blue that perfectly matched Louis’ eyes when he was happy, usually only a sliver showed as his eyes squinted showing his unabashed joy. Others were greenish-blue, the exact shade of Louis’ eyes when he was sad, and so on.

Harry knew it was probably not healthy to constantly remind himself of someone who probably never thought of him. But Harry never had much self-control. Sometimes at night, he would wonder if Louis was truly happy, and if he himself would ever be happy. 

Harry would be the first to say he was content and was that not good enough? But when he voiced this to Gemma, she had just sighed and ruffled his hair like he was a child still. His hair was drastically shorter than he had ever worn it, after accidentally setting it on fire. It might have been Harry’s fault for wearing his chest-long hair down as he danced around lit candles, but his sister did not need to know the details.

Finally satisfied with his work, Harry set the candle down by the roaring lion on the windowsill and wiped his hands. He supposed he could make dinner now or read one of the romance books Gemma got him from Vallinel—

Knock knock.

A customer! Harry ran his wax-covered fingers through his hair as he eagerly strode to the door. 

“Hello! Welcome to the Styles Bed and Breakfast—” Harry’s tongue caught in his throat as Louis Tomlinson peered up at him with big blue eyes in a familiar purple cloak.

“Harry, can you help me?"


	6. In Which Things Seem Too Good to Be True...

“So, eggs.” Harry helplessly spoke into the void that was their normal morning routine. A frilly, seafoam green apron wrapped around his neck — a souvenir from his pirating days — protected him from the bacon splashing about in the pan. “How about them?”

Louis sighed and leant back in the chair so his head fell into the open air, “...They exist?”

Harry pointed his finger and let out a loud fake laugh, “They sure do!” 

The taller boy quickly turned around at that remark, leaving Louis to stew in silence interrupted by greasy snaps and crackles. Louis did not know what had possessed his two magical companions to drop him off alone at the tiny cottage in the middle of the Forests of Chaos, but he felt vulnerable without them and the still healing Twist.

He could practically feel the tension seeping out of Harry’s pores with every passing minute Louis spent here being a burden. After spilling out what had happened in the past six years that they were separated, while still being drenched in rain, Louis had catalogued the differences of the boy he had fallen in love with so many years ago.

Gone were the long curls that kissed the skin just past his ears and caressed his shoulders. Harry’s shorn hair sharpened his features, making him look more like an archaic god carved out of stone. The only thing that proved the gorgeous boy was human was his still-riddled acne face.

Part of him wondered if the new look was what made Harry’s eyes look deeper, or if the man had just seen similar trials in their years apart. Yet every time Louis opened his mouth to learn the details of the stories Gemma mentioned on the boat ride, something inside of him pulled back. He noticed that Harry frequently did the same thing in the midst of the awkward silence prevalent for the past few days. 

The wind whistled through the trees, as if the goddess herself had just let out a colossal sigh from what she was witnessing from above. 

“I’m sorry,” Louis started, before stilling as Harry turned around. Some of his short curls fell just above his brow, accentuating his sad eyes.

“What for?” Harry prompted him, a wooden spoon still in his hand.

Louis let out an involuntary sigh, “What for? I don’t know, Harry, perhaps for startling you out of your routine by running to you for help. You most definitely have a beau that you have been courting, which I’ve been stopping you from doing—”

“A beau?” Harry repeated incredulously. “Louis, I live in the middle of the Forests of Chaos!”

“Yes, Harry you do. You live in a very popular inn in the Forests of Chaos! I wouldn’t be surprised if you were courting one of your many guests who come here for your ‘candles’!”

Harry waved his spoon like a weapon towards the very quiet common room of the inn, where his one guest was napping, “Where?”

“You know, wizard elves don’t need to buy so many candles for concentration! They’re fucking _wizards_ , Harry, they don’t need to burn anything except their spell slots.”

“This doesn’t sound like an apology to me.”

“So I’m just the homewrecker who stopped you from getting your happily ever after—”

“Don’t call yourself that-” Harry shouted, getting closer to him.

“I can call myself whatever I want because it’s true!” Louis stood up, so their faces were just centimeters apart.

“It was always you. You were my happily ever after!” Harry shouted. “I haven’t been able to even look at anyone in a romantic way ever since that day in the forest when I kissed you for the first time. Do you understand? It was always you.” He repeated softly.

The past tense of Harry’s proclamation shook Louis’ core—

“And now you’re twisting my words again! How many times do I have to get it in your thick skull that you’re it for me? How can I—?”

Harry wrenched his hands in front of him into the open air, before twisting his hands into Louis’ tunic. He looked into Louis’ eyes, and for a moment he thought Harry was going to punch him, as the manic look in the other’s eyes scanned his face.

Everything happened in slow motion as if the two were in the eye of a storm. The trees outside paused as Harry’s face slowly got closer to his until their lips touched. As soon as they made contact, Harry pulled him in, as if trying to envelop him into his own body, starving for more. One of them grunted as Louis ran his sensitive stumps through Harry’s hair as their lips melded together for the first time in years.

Harry tasted like rosemary and thyme, the herbs he used to season his eggs, and it made Louis feel at home. His tongue delved into the witch’s mouth and devoured the taste of _Harry Harry Harry_. 

_Finally_ Harry’s tongue seemed to say against his as they moved together. Harry sucked on Louis’ tongue causing an indecent whine to come out of the older man.

Louis blushed and pulled away, the action causing a suction sound to sound out in the empty kitchen. The shorter man reddened at that. He looked down as he ran a stump over his fringe to hide his red cheeks, unaware of the adoring stare the witch gave him.

“Are-Are you really sure? Sure that you want me? All of me?” Louis stuttered, his limbs still weak from that earth-shaking kiss.

“Baby, I want you every single way. You are still you in every way. That’s all I want.” Harry cupped his cheek until Louis was looking up at him. “Thank you for knocking on my door.”

“Always.”

*

King Liam James, third of his name, sat on his throne alone. His last search party had returned that morning with no good news. The lower royals were growing testy at his preoccupations and the servants he thought of as his friends were wary of his company.

He could not blame them, after arriving with Louis’ family, he was offered poisoned sweetmeats. Something he would have never expected from Mary, even though the attempt had been see-through. Even Paul could not bear to look him in the eyes. And how could he blame them? He had truly shown his naive age by passing on a non-coded letter complete with his seal to his unprotected servant in enemy land. In one whole swoop, he had lost his husband, his servants’ respect, and war was on the horizon. It couldn’t get worse than this.

“Bring them in!” He called, prompting the pages at the door.

As a farmer began another tirade on the safety of his cattle, several things happened at once. A stone crashed into the window above him, missing the king only slightly as a thump rang out from behind the throne. A woman screamed and several noblewomen fainted. King Liam expected Paul to give sharp orders to organize the chaos while assuring Liam with a tight smile. But the screams carried on as smelling salts were distributed among the rows.

“Everyone please calm down!” King Liam stood up, his loud voice carrying out in the throne room.

“Sire!” A Lord stood up and pointed to the wall behind him.

There, Paul was laid onto the wall with an unearthly strong arrow pinning him to the wall by his head. Blood streamed down his face into his open, unseeing eyes. An invisible hand drew scrawled words in the copious amount of blood. King Liam stared frozen in horror as the man he considered a father figure hung beneath large block letters.

# Bring Me the Boy or Suffer the Consequences

A part of him wanted the scream and cry and beg for the man’s life back. But as always, he kept his emotions inside for the betterment of his people.

The doors of the hall swung open as a young messenger ran straight for him. The page panted for breath, blood stained on his clothes. “The king of Solace has been assassinated, they have declared war on Vallinel.”

As his people scurried around, as his Lords started sending missiles to gather their armies, King Liam tapped at his gold armrest. As he gazed out into the hall, unseeing, he knew what he had to do.

*

Louis took one look at Harry drenched in sweat and pushed him into the cottage. He took Harry’s bag filled with different herbs and threw them into the corner. It wasn’t like the jar of toad spikes that had exploded upon impact, making Louis’ hair green for a fortnight. Harry dropped onto one of the awful chartreuse velvet chairs next to the bookcase. Louis could tell from the look on his face that it was going to be a long night. He crossed over to the kitchen to retrieve the apple cider they had made earlier that week.

They had spent the last month in bliss he could imagine only newlywed went through. Yet if felt nothing like the years he had spent under Liam’s wing. He knew that they had to come back to the present and the many traumas they had faced alone together, but Louis selfishly had thought the outside world would have given them a longer reprieve. At least until they had gotten intimate

“You look beautiful when you’re worried, my love.”

“What?” Louis turned to see Harry watching him from behind, “What are you—?”

“Part of me wonders if everything that has happened is because the goddess likes to collect pretty things. You are one of the prettiest little things I have ever seen when you are under pressure.” Harry came up behind him and nuzzled his face into the base of Louis’ neck.

Louis’ skin tingled as Harry’s breath blew over and under this tunic, “What are you doing? You looked so distressed earlier? And— Oi! I’m not little!”

Harry chuckled at Louis’ annoyed expression as he turned in his arms, “But you are smaller than me, aren’t you, my love? At least enough for me to do this.”

Harry grabbed Louis by the waist and picked him up close to his chest, forcing him to wrap his arms around Harry’s head. Louis tried to fight any change in his expression as a tingle shot through his body, straight to his groin, at the action. How did Harry know that he secretly liked the feeling of being cared for? Of having no choice but to submit?

Harry hummed around a smirk as he started moving towards the stairs.

“What?” Louis sighed, trying not to squirm as each step jostled his dick onto Harry’s muscular stomach. “Harry, what did you see in the Forest?”

Harry threw him on to their bed, “Are you sure you want me to tell you right now?” He spoke lowly as he got onto the bed as well, moving like a predator with eyes on its meal.

“I—” Harry started to kiss up his stomach, over his tunic, taking his time as each inch made Louis’ chest move rapidly up and down. 

“Harry!” The man tore at Louis’ stockings, leaving his crotch bare. 

The cool air upon his privates made him jerk into his lover’s arm, just as Harry reached his face. A ring-laden hand caressed his cheek as ruby lips devoured his, a cheeky tongue ravishing his mouth. Louis’ mind floated into bliss, only awoken as his lover’s forgotten hand trailed along his leg.

“You do not know what your thighs did to me growing up. I swear I dreamed only about them for at least a year,” Harry whispered, squeezing Louis’ thick thighs, making Louis’ leg twitch in need. “I used to dream about biting them until I got to the prize of your backside.”

“Fuck! Harry!” Louis shouted, as his lover unexpectedly flipped him over onto his stomach. 

Hands reverently trailed along his ass before coming back with a hard _SMACK!_ Louis keened into the sheets underneath him as Harry tore more of his stockings before spanking him twice, thrice more. Each smack made Louis jerk his hips into the sheets.

“Oh no, we can’t have that,” Harry’s raspy voice teased, as he grabbed Louis’ hips. “No grinding, naughty boy. I want to draw this out while I still can.” 

Harry effortlessly tugged him down the bed by just his hips, the easy motion made Louis’ dick twitch in interest. He could only imagine other ways Harry could throw him around, surfaces he could hold him against—

“I can hear you thinking,” Harry sing-songed in a menacing voice that sent a chill down Louis’ spine. The sound of his voice sounded almost like the witch was kneeling on the ground, which didn’t make sense unless—

“I’ve dreamed about this for the past decade,” Harry prefaced before a tongue laved at Louis’ hole. 

An involuntary whine came from Louis as the only things he could concentrate on was the loud slurping and nibbles around his rim. Louis slammed his arm on the bed as the wonderfully ridged tongue entered his tight hole. 

Harry came up for air, giving him a short reprieve, before biting at one of his jiggling cheeks. Louis trembled as ring-covered fingers rubbed along his ass, down his taint, and wrapped around his dick. 

He had also fantasized about Harry seeing him like this for the first time, completely bare for him to see all his imperfections and insecurities. This felt different from his nights with Liam, that always held a hint of a transaction for saving his life and plopping him in the lap of luxury. Feeling Harry pump him, making the shakes in his thighs more pronounced, felt like coming home.

“I fucking love the way you shake for me.” Harry growled, “I wish I could have a day just making you come until you beg me to stop, even though you want more.”

He _wished_? Louis opened his mouth to ask why they could not indeed do just that when something warm and wet fell along the globes of his ass. The smell of olives permeated the room as Harry massaged the oil on his ass.

“I’m going to remember the way you glistened for me for all my days,” Harry sighed before spanking him again. Louis squeaked, the lubricant made the pain sharper in the most delicious way, as precum dribbled down below. Before he could catch his breath, a lubricated finger swirled around his rim before entering in one thrust.

Louis’ tight body moved up and down along the bed as Harry pumped his finger into him. Grunts and high whimpers resounded around the room as Harry added another finger.

After a pump hit Louis’ prostate just right, Louis gave in, “ _Fuck_ me. Oh gods, Harry, _please_.”

Harry sounded a little choked up as he replied, “Whatever you want, sire.”

Louis’ eyebrows furrowed, he didn’t have the brain cells to understand the tension in the room after getting finger-fucked into the mattress. All the same, he turns his head, “What are you— Unngh.”

Louis’ eyelashes fluttered as the head of Harry’s cock popped into his hole. The royal panted as he clenched rapidly around the intrusion as he tried to adjust to the feeling. The tightening must be more than Harry can handle as the length then jackhammered into him in one thrust.

“ _Oh!_ ” Louis fell, the only things holding him up were Harry’s hands on his hips as the witch pounded him into the mattress. He could feel how wet he was as Harry smacked his cheeks causing them to ripple against Harry’s hips. Louis bit his lip, loving how sore they were getting between the earlier spanking and the force Harry was using to fuck his brains out. Every other thrust hit his spot causing Louis’ legs to twitch around Harry until Louis’ orgasm is literally fucked out of him.

“Harry,” Louis whined as Harry doesn’t even stop his speed, using him.

“Tell me you want me more than Liam,” Harry grunted.

“What?” Louis was hard again and Harry was so deep inside. 

Harry stopped, his dick fully in Louis. He was sure that if he was lying on his back, he could have felt the hard length through his stomach. “Beg for my dick. Tell me you want me more than your husband,” Harry growled. “Anyone could tell, from how you’re acting like a common slut.”

Louis panted as he realized that he was grinding figure-eights against Harry’s hips, as his limbs pushed into the bed, like a bitch in heat.

At Louis’ silence, Harry pulled out. “No! Harry-”

“Calm down, Lou,” Harry easily flipped him over, a tender smile contradicting his early words. “I need to see your face.”

Louis felt like he was getting whiplash from how Harry was acting, although it could just be the cloudiness from feeling so close to coming again in such a short time. He whimpered as Harry thrust back into his hole. The witch pressed on the back of his knees until they were on either side of his shoulders, folding him in half. He hadn’t truly realized how much stronger Harry had gotten, his biceps barely twitched at the action and Louis felt helpless. It was amazing.

“He’s here, looking for you in the forest,” Harry thrusted deeper this time. “Wow, you’re actually drooling, honey.” 

“Hnngh.” Louis rocked into the thrusts as he wiped his stump across his mouth to indeed find drool. 

“He wants you to go back to Vallinel with him,” Harry continued to fuck high moans and grunts from his body. “But when you go back to eating your sweetmeats and sitting in your throne, you’re going to remember this. And when you’re getting fucked by your gout-ridden husband in thirty years, you’re going to know that _no one_ can fuck you as good as I can.”

Louis’ mind could only concentrate on the thick length battering deep in him and how hot the room felt.

Tears fell on his chest as Harry pounded faster into him, “No one can love you as much as I do. And I hope you fucking remember that.”

Louis let out a high whine as he clenched on Harry’s dick once more as they came together. Come shooted into him as Harry’s cock twitched causing his sore rim to quiver, and Louis to whimper and shake. 

Minutes later, Louis opened his eyes, still panting from the brain-melting orgasms Harry had fucked out of him. The witch lay beside him, drawing symbols along Louis’ skin, the soft touches making Louis’ heart grow warm. Louis smiled, his eyes almost closing at the action, he was so happy, finally able to experience this form of intimacy with the love of his life.

Harry’s words resonated in his mind and Louis shot up, and quickly causing him to wince as his ass throbbed in protest. Harry chuckled, the sound eerily empty, as his fingers trailed over Louis’ thick thighs.

“Liam’s looking for me?”

“Yeah,” the affirmation came out weak. “He said that getting you back to the kingdom would save it and your people. Also, he never sent that letter, but…” Harry trailed off, his eyes downcast.

“But I already knew that,” Louis muttered under his breath, as his mind wracked itself for an answer on what Liam thought he could do to help the kingdom.

Harry wiped hastily under his eye, as he started to crawl off the bed, “I’ll help you pack.”

Louis startled as the bed moved, “Why?”

Harry looked even sadder down at him, “I’m not a total asshole. Even if I have to watch you leave my life.”

Louis paused and then laughed, the action making Harry curl into himself. Hastily he held up his arm, “Why would I leave you? I’ve only just found you again, love.”

Harry crossed his arms, his lip coming out into the pout Louis knew meant he was confused and insecure. Fuck, he hoped the sex would always be that good and not just because Harry was angry. Although Louis could think of a number ways to get Harry annoyed enough to fuck him like that again.

“But—”

“I’m not leaving you to go save a kingdom. All I’ve ever wanted is to be with you, away from all the people who hated us.” Louis beckoned Harry towards the bed with his stump, “Why would I want to leave this?”

“Oh,” Harry pinched his bottom lip, his eyes still held something hesitant in them. 

Now secure that Harry wasn’t going to start throwing his tunics into a knapsack for him, Louis leaned back in bed. “Why were you so worried?” Louis asked, still in the afterglow.

“I don’t know.” Harry gazed out the window for a moment, his lip looked dark red. “You’ve always done the kind, right thing ever since I’ve known you. You might not do it the ‘right’ way like a goody-two-shoes, but you always did it.”

Louis leaned forward and kissed his pout, “Well, I just won’t this time. I’m all yours, forever.”

The darkness was still not gone from Harry’s eyes, “Really? Even if that means countless civilians die? Even if you know exactly who those civilians are?”

Louis’ mind flashed to Mary, Paul, and the others. He knew they were strong, and he believed without a doubt that he would give the Solace army their worst.

Harry bit his lip for a long minute, as if fighting against himself, before finally looking down with a sigh. “He has your family in the palace.”

Louis felt his heart stop, “What.”

“Liam told you that he would go to Solace to bring back your family, and he did.” Harry ran his fingers through his hair and pulled, hard enough that Louis felt the part of himself that wasn’t numb and screaming wince in sympathy. “People only know that because Solace sent an assassin to take one of the royal family out. And they succeeded.”

Louis’ breath stopped, “Who?”

Harry paused, looking anywhere but him.

“Harry!” Louis yelled, getting off the bed, “Who was it?”

Harry mumbled something incoherent. 

Louis’ eyes burned as a voice he didn’t recognize tore out of him, “Don’t make me ask again.”

“Fizzy.”

Rage burned through Louis, radiating off him like a bushfire. He had left his home, his family, in order to keep them safe from powers that wanted to destroy him. All his life all he had known was the loss of family — the family members he never met who must have given him away because of the prophecies, the large family of girls who he had watched grow, and the husband and found family he gathered through his troubles. All were gone from him because he was too dangerous—

And Harry, the man he had loved since he was a boy, had kept this from him in order to fuck him. Because Harry knew he would leave him too. To protect someone else. Harry knew him more than Louis knew himself. And Harry— Was staring at him as if he had transformed into a frog before his eyes. Louis looked down on himself and saw two human legs, his naked dick, and his two stumps. Which were on fire.

Louis screamed.

Harry raised his arms warily as he crept closer to Louis as he mouthed words. But Louis could hardly hear anything over the panic shrieking in his ears, he was going to die just in time to reunite with his sister—

“Shhh. You’re okay. You’re not hurt.” Harry’s words fell on deaf ears as Louis’ breath became shorter and quicker.

Louis couldn’t breathe, his heart was coming out of his chest— 

Harry kissed him. Fire crackled and popped between the witch’s ears, embers floated around their heads like fireflies with nowhere to go. Louis felt something still as if the lips against his were able to calm the roaring river within him. 

Slowly, Harry leant back, their lips disconnected causing a whine to emit from Louis’ chest. The witch’s eyes stayed closed as if he was still savoring the taste on his tongue, but Louis was quick to glance at his limbs that now just had orbs of contained fire floating above them. 

He was magic? Well, of course, he was magic, Solace had tried to silence the fact that most people had magic in them. Whether it was the neverending supply selflessness that his mother had or the whispered commands that Liam’s hands bent metal with, everyone contained some type of magic. Everyone at Vallinel could whisper words in the Olde tongue for basic commands, but the ability to control an element?

“Have you always been able to do that?” Harry sounds like he swallowed his tongue along with Louis’ lips, as he gazes up at him from the floor.

“What, you were too blinded by my lips to ever see the fire in my hands when we were growing up?” Louis snapped, as he waved an arm. The orb followed the movement, almost as if it was connected to his stump through a magical string.

Harry’s eyes bugged out, causing Louis to sigh in regret. He was still upset that Harry lied to him, but he could only imagine how Harry was feeling. Hell, Louis was surprised he was not still screaming bloody murder.

“Hands!” Harry shouted before dashing down the stairs towards the kitchen.

Everyone has a moment where they worry that those they love have changed into a creature unrecognizable. It may be through magic, different lived experiences, perhaps even a little too much of a good thing - like whiskey. Yet throughout these changes, some people will reassure themselves that they will always love their partner, even if they are replaced with a changeling. 

This was the thought process Louis held as he watched his lover run back and forth in their rustic kitchen. As he began throwing different crystals, herbs, and charms into the pot of bubbling tan wax, threatening to spill onto the hot coals. After a crescendo of mutterings, Harry finally stepped away from the hearth, wiping his brow as he did so. The witch jumped when he turned to discover Louis hovering by the door, two orbs still floating above his stumps.

“Harry, what are you doing?” Louis questioned, moving closer to look down at the thicker than usual wax. He didn’t know much about Harry’s candle-making business, other than they all had different magical properties created with Harry’s green witch tendencies.

“It’s my most potent batch,” Harry smiled nonsensically, “When lit, the candle will help whoever is nearby, except for whoever created it. Which is why I had to make this one.”

The witch paused, as if waiting for an excited reaction from Louis. Instead of leaping for joy, the disabled king consort just cocked his head as confused as ever.

“Louis, don’t you see? You don’t need tinder or a match to light this candle! What better object to create your hands?”

“My...hands?” Louis repeated.

“Yes, well,” Harry waved his hands as if dismissing the confusion, “your new prosthetics! Just wait, I’ll create the mold—”

Louis remembered the nights he spent in Liam’s forge, and how he would watch his husband whisper words to create the new object’s that would fit onto Louis’ wrists and make the Court titter and admire. How the sparks would flare around Liam and his pet, before a surprise was lowered in Louis’ lap. He was sure Liam never understood, just as he never truly realized, how helpless it felt to see his prosthetics created according to the whims of the king. Louis himself had always assumed the flip in his stomach to his new gifts was due to excitement. Instead of the real wariness for whatever fashion or trend Liam decided to have him model while using a device that was meant to make it easier for him to survive.

A loud crackle of the fire snapped Louis out of his musings. He was sure that Harry did not know what this meant to him, but he was not going to stay silent and let this moment poison their bond like it had Liam and their marriage.

“ _Flyde_ ,“ the command poured out like silk-warm mead from Louis’ lips. A slight tick of his mouth disguised the self-satisfaction as the wax poured out of the cauldron and into the air. He had never realized how similar liquid metal and wax were, although wax could always be infused with something else, like a partnership, different to stubborn metal. 

Harry let out a gasp, as he looked between the liquid and Louis. It took a moment for understanding and then regret to pass through his eyes. But Louis did not have time to ponder or feel grateful that Harry understood, he had important tools to create.

“ _Klasse_ ,” the wax flowed and surged like a living thing within an invisible sphere, in the air between the two.

The next phase was tricky, Louis readied himself before taking a deep breath. As he exhaled, he chanted, “ _Skab livets hænder, hænder for mig, hænder fra hende._ ” The wax started to separate and slowly form the shape of hands. The liquid piled upon itself higher and higher until fingers formed.

Even if the letter was a trick of Sy Mon, Louis could understand why Liam had considered those prosthetics his own. Louis was literally breathing life into his hands to give them a mind and memory of their own, and the action felt like giving a piece of himself. Liam might have thought doing so with countless prosthetics had shown his love, yet Louis realized that perhaps it had also resulted in Liam losing himself in Louis.

The thought caused a shudder to run down Louis’ back. He did not know what about himself made others want to help him, to love him almost as much as themselves, when Louis did not want them to do so. The orbs of fire circling around him disappeared at that thought.

Two fully formed hands floated in the air before him, “ _Hårde_.” As the magic whipped from his core, the palms then fingers turned lighter until they were just a hair darker than Louis’ arms.

“I’m sorry if I—”

“I’m not letting anyone take away my agency again,” Louis interrupted Harry. His eyes never strayed from his new hands. He did not feel anger, just pride. “If I gain any more prosthetics, they will be made with my own magic, my own sweat and tears.”

There was only one thing left to do, “ _Kom her_.” 

The familiar command made Louis finally smile as the hands dashed over to fit over his lumpy stumps. The air seemed to sing as they fit perfectly, not bad. Two of the wax fingers touched each other, as he readied himself to try out the candle aspect of his prosthetics.

“Wait!” Harry seemed to sense what he was about to do. “I was not lying when I said this my most potent batch, but in exchange the magic within the wax is chaotic. If the person near you does not have an image in their mind on what will help them the magic will decide on its own on what to change.”

Louis looked down at his prosthetic, “So if I hypothetically visited Liam, I would be able to help him with the kingdom’s troubles?”

Harry seemed to hesitate, “You promised that you would not leave.” His voice got quieter as he murmured to himself, “But after I lied to him, how could he expect—”

“Harry!” Louis interrupted, there was a sudden change in him ever since he learned about Felicite’s death. He felt overcome with emotions to the point that it was numbing, and the change was freeing. “You can come down with me, to lead me to where you saw him into the forest. I won’t be leaving you.”

“But I—” Harry looked down at the kitchen floor, stained with explosions of magical nature. “I betrayed your trust.”

“Because you love me.” Louis stepped closer to the man who had never strayed from his mind throughout his life. “We’ve both been through hell, I understand the sentiment of trying to protect me.”

“I—”

“I’ll concede that part of it was selfish on your part. But I probably would have waited to tell you news such as that as well.” Louis tilted Harry’s face with a waxy finger, so he could gaze at Harry’s watery green eyes. “I love you, Harry.”

It was a sentiment that they had both known but had never spoken. 

Tears fell from Harry’s emerald eyes, even when he “I’ve waited so long to hear that Lou. I love you too.”

Louis let a full grin creep into his face, “Now let’s find ourselves a king.”

*

“Shit, fuck.” King Liam James the third of his name tripped over another invisible log. He should have really assumed that the Forests of Chaos were aptly named before venturing in with only a moon-sword. Too bad the moon ray captured in metal could only save him from beasts and other things he could see.

“Oh thank Hecate.” 

Up ahead was a clearing due to the sea of stumps. The king gave no thought to what would have caused a grouping of trees to be cut down in an even swoop, as he sat on top of a visible stump. So far his search for his (ex?)-husband had been unfruitful, although he still had a foggy idea of what he would say if he saw him. 

_I’m quite sorry about that whole letter mix-up. Momentarily forgot that letters could be intercepted. Hope getting threatened to be strung up like venison by your husband didn’t scar you, my dove!_

He had already accepted that Louis would not want anything more with him. Yet part of him - the commoner, he supposed - wanted to get on his knees and beg him to come to the palace. _Bring Harry and make me a cuckold! I just want to be near you once more._ Hecate, he was pathetic.

“I think I see him!” A deep voice echoed along the clearing, causing Liam to scramble up from his post. The tall man that he had seen eavesdropping in the forest was walking down the hill clearing alongside a bearded...shorter...

“Louis!” The king was running before he realized it. 

He wrapped his arms around his consort, his mind no longer focusing on desperate apologies. Louis was actually alive! He had survived after all!

The body against his chest tensed before it was ripped from within his arms. The taller man glared down at him, given that he was standing on the elevated bit of hill surely.

“Look here—”

“Harry—”

The two strangers spoke at the same time before looking at each other and...blushing? Liam puzzled this behavior before he comprehended the name Louis uttered. So this was the famous Harry that had left Louis with a longing so deep it could be heard from his dreams. Funny how Liam’s actions had led Louis straight into his arms.

“Liam, I. You look—” Louis started and stopped. “I heard you were looking for me.”

Liam nodded, “War has broken out between Solace and Vallinel.”

“And that’s a surprise because?”

Liam should have known that his consort had listened in during strategic meetings. Everyone knew that war would have broken out in the next decade, sooner or later. But— 

“This war is not natural, I’m afraid.” Liam smiled wryly, “The king of Solace was assassinated which was understandably blamed on Vallinel. However moments before we were notified, a message was left at our court. ‘Bring me the boy or suffer the consequences.’ And we have been.” Liam looked down, trying to drive the image of servant boys taking Paul’s body of the wall.

“Solace is known for being anti-magic, yet their forces hold something sinister. Arrows take off heads with one clean strike, the most loyal men shoot their comrades, and spies make up most of the court. Your sister—”

“I know.” Louis cut in, his gaze could have turned a lesser man to stone. “So you expect me to be your sacrificial lamb after you saw the atrocities done to your people? Tell me, Leemo, do you expect me to lay still as you stab me in the back here or would you like me tied up in your throne room instead?”

“I never entered the front line,” Liam confessed. “As soon as war broke out, I ran to find you. You must be able to do something as the child of prophecies-”

Louis scoffed, “All throughout our marriage I thought you could be one of the rare people who saw me beyond the prophecies, yet you kept me like a _dove_ to be slaughtered for peace!” Louis’ voice rose with each other until he was yelling in Liam’s face. 

Liam fell onto his knees and prostrated himself on the ground, “I came only to be sure that you were safe, everything else is secondary. I do not know what I must do to show my loyalty and love for you, my sun—”

“You have already shown me the type of man you are, husband. The type of man who puts his loved ones before his duty.” 

Liam looked up from the ground, tear-tracks running down his face. Due to the position of the sun it looked like Louis had a halo, making him an even more mystical-

At that thought, Louis crouched down until they were face to face, “Liam, let me free you of me.” Louis gave him a sad smile, “You should be out there, protecting your people, the people who love you instead of running away to find me.”

“So this is the end of us?” The king’s voice carried a tinge of a whine, “Just like that?”

“I love the people of Vallinel as well, so I have a gift for you.” Louis lifted his arm and revealed a waxy prosthetic. Each finger was delicate and probably identical to Louis’ real hands, in a way that Liam had never been able to achieve with his gifts. “Think about what could happen to save our kingdom.”

Louis closed his eyes and the king waited. And waited. And waited some more. Politely, of course. After a few moments Liam, in the nicest tone possible, asked, “Er, what exactly is this thought exercise doing to help Vallinel?”  
“Fuck, Harry, it’s not working.” 

Liam waited on the ground as the two squabbled and Louis pushed his prosthetics closer to the witch’s face.

“Maybe try feeling something really hard?” The witch suggested, only to receive a huff from Louis. “Er, like remember when you got really mad at me for making you eat those green fruits with the big pits?”

Louis scrunched his face, “The only reaction I got from eating your avocados was a rash, not fire floating out of me!”

Fire? Liam looked between the two completely lost. Why would they need-

“How was I supposed to know you were allergic?!”

“Everyone should be! It tastes like grass!”

“Listen.”

Liam cut in on what he suspected could turn into a long conversation, ignoring the pang at realizing that he and Louis had never shared the easy camaraderie, “If we need fire, we could go to your fireplace? I’m afraid I forgot to pack tinder on my hasty retreat.” 

The couple turned to each other. Louis lifted an eyebrow leading Harry to shrug, causing Louis to lift both eyebrows. At Harry’s nod, they turned in unison to Liam, who was still kneeling on the ground, “Come on.”

*

As they walked back to the Styles Bed and Breakfast, Louis pondered on how strange it was to be walking in between his husband and lover. He had hoped that he could have just set his hands on fire and let his husband go away until he could bring his family to the Forest.

Yet there was a more prevalent question probing at the back of his mind. Why hadn’t he been able to light his prosthetic back there? It was true he had just been aware of his power, yet he had an inkling that it was lighted through his ability to ‘feel things more than other people’. Or whatever Niall had told him during their journey out of Solace. What was keeping this newfound power locked away from him?

As they approached the Bed and Breakfast a figure came into view. It was leaning against the door of the cottage, and looked vaguely familiar—

“Ah, I was wondering when you two would be back,” a voice purred. “And you brought a tasty snack, as well! How thoughtful.”

Sy Mon the Defeated twiddled his thumbs. He had forgone his priestly outfit that Louis had remembered all those years ago. Instead, he was wearing burned rags and a scar slashed along his face. Protruding from his head were horns, which might have always been there, but were now uncovered by glamour.

“I must commend you, your highness, you follow the prophecies to a tee. Even without your knowledge of them. I cannot wait to chain you to my existence, as I watch you serve me. Day in and day out.” The smile on the demon’s face betrayed the type of power he wanted over Louis.

“Over my dead body,” Harry growled.

Louis bit his lip as Harry charged with the small orb of energy. Although Harry was a witch, his expertise in magic was with potions as a green witch. Louis could not remember if Anne had ever given him lessons on combat magic. And Harry didn’t have his sword, since it was hanging with the rest of his possessions back in the inn—

Sy Mon let out a laugh at the sight of the orb before slicing a finger lazily in the air. The motion caused a rip to echo along the forest followed by a wet gasp. Louis forced his eyes to look and see a giant gash, stretching from Harry’s sternum to pelvis, already gushing crimson. 

The witch staggered to his knees, gurgling out matching crimson from his cherry lips before falling onto the ground.

Liam charged next, his sword vibrating with pure energy as it sliced into the air. The blade nicked at one of Sy Mon’s horns, chopping it in half.

The demon let out an unearthly shriek, causing the hairs on Louis’ arms to raise. With a single finger, a net made of pure lightning was conjured above Liam’s head. The king let out an agonized scream as the lightning warped around him, zapping him unyieldingly until he lost consciousness. 

With slow speed Sy Mon sauntered over to his prize, wrapping his body around the stunned royal. How had both Harry and Liam fallen so suddenly? What could he do—

Sy Mon’s acrid breath trailed along Louis’ cheek just as a claw caressed his chin, “You have annoyed me greatly with your evasiveness, little babe.” The demon’s glamour dropped further revealing his pale, alabaster skin. It glinted like translucent marble as smoky globs of past souls Sy Mon had tricked with contracts and his bloodthirsty thirst twisted under his skin.

“Don’t look so disgusted, little babe. We were created with the gods and goddesses as equals to support those with dark intentions, yet when we did our jobs we were punished to live among vermin, like him.” The demon kicked the body on the ground, causing Harry to cough wetly. “Witches are just whores to the goddesses, who follow their every whim in exchange for the smallest powers. They can’t even help themselves.”

Louis stiffened, his eyes glaring at the being that had chased him from home to home. He had deprived him and his family—

“And what are you going to do, little babe?” The demon smirked, growing ever closer, until there was no point on their bodies that were not touching. “Your pureness of heart might have saved you before, but you don’t have the capacity to harm me. Would your sister, who screamed your name as her soul was devoured, approve of your recent bloodlust? Would the Mother approve as she looks down at her child?”

Louis had no idea what Sy Mon meant by his mother. As far as he knew she was safe at the Crystalhaven castle, unless—

No, he could not swallow the idea that she could be looking down on him from the castle of the gods. He knew exactly what Felicite would say, though, they always had similar attitudes towards those who treated them like dirt beneath their feet.

“She would probably say go to hell. But I think you deserve something much worse and long-lasting.” Louis looked down at Harry’s fallen form, at Liam’s paralyzed body, and thought of his sisters and brother being scared in a foreign land. He thought of the pain of leaving his family paired with the throbbing ache of his hands ripped away from his body. The man without hands thought of running for his life, of wanting to end his life because of the disgust that festered because of what this demon’s twisted thoughts made him do. 

And he burned.

“What is this?” The pale demon shrieked as flames surrounded Louis until they grew bigger, forever hungry. 

The flames skipped over Liam and Harry’s bodies, licking an air bubble around them like a lover caressing his admirer’s cheek. The inferno climbed up Sy Mon’s legs, onto his chest, singed his eyebrows, and bit into his hair. 

Louis grinned, his arms outstretched and body untouched by flames, as Sy Mon the Defeated Twice tried to pull away from the hungry fire. Once the demon realized there was no hope, he narrowed his eyes and made one last movement. A dagger of bone flew from his hand and found its mark, punctuated by one last shriek as the demon turned to dust.

Louis extinguished the flames that threatened to have the Forest for dinner, before turning to his companions. Liam was sitting up, the ropes of lightning now as distinguished as their maker was. Yet Harry was still on the ground— With a dagger sticking out of his back.

“A dagger to the heart,” Liam whispered. “I am so sorry, Lou.”

“No,” Louis said, because it was all he could do. “No, no, no.” He crawled over to Harry and put his ear to his back to feel for a heartbeat.

“We’re too late,” a familiar Irish lilt said, followed by hoofbeats. “The prophecies have been fulfilled.”

“Solace has truly fallen,” Zayn’s voice droned. “At least a new age of magic has begun.”

“Harry?” Louis could feel Gemma’s body next to his own. “Get up, you stupid boy! I told you you weren’t fit for fighting. Circe—”

Louis did not look away from his lover’s body as Gemma started to sob. The heartbeat beneath his hands was growing ever slowly, there was still hope. Gemma moved Harry’s body so he was lying on his side. His eyes were open and coherent, for now.

“Lou—”

There had to be something he could do. Louis thought of the nights when they would dance around Anne’s kitchen as teenagers. He thought of Harry buying him a ring for them to live the rest of their lives together so many years ago. The boy without hands remembered the tears they shed together after finally seeing each other again just weeks earlier. 

“In all our other lives,” Harry whispered wetly, “I will love you as steadily as the stars glow. I’ll love you for centuries.”

“No, this isn’t how it goes.” Louis concentrated on the wax attached to him.

“Louis, the prophecies—” Zayn started.

“Fuck the prophecies.” Louis did not look away from the waxy fingers wiggling in front of him.

“Don’t waste your energy,” Harry panted. “I enchanted the wax, it won’t work for me. At least you can go back with Liam now. Be a king beside him.”

“Fuck that,” Louis snapped to look at the dying light in Harry’s eyes. “These are mine, and they are going to work for me.”

Harry seemed to not hear him, “I will love you from this life to the next.” He batted a trembling hand to Gemma, “Make mummy proud. Lov’ou.” 

And the witch who loved the man without hands from desert to sky to Forest let out his last breath.

Zayn stepped towards Louis, which only prompted him to growl and cover Harry’s body with his own.

“Think about Harry being alive, of him waking up.” Louis blinked past the tears rolling his cheeks.

“Louis,” Gemma chided, wiping tears from her eyes.

“Do it or I will burn this Forest to the ground,” Louis growled.

“Lou—” Zayn was cut off by Niall’s hand on his shoulder.

“I’m having a feeling,” Niall said. 

Zayn paused, sharing a look with the sun elf before leaning down next to Harry’s lifeless body.

“Louis—” Gemma protested before getting cut off by Louis once more.

“I will burn this world to the ground for Harry, do not cross me here.”

With three magical beings beside him with closed eyes, Louis blew onto the wax and set one finger alight.

Harry’s body did not stir or twitch.

“Should I light more fingers on fire?” Louis beseeched Niall, who could only shrug in return.

The sun elf paused, “What if you tried kissing him?”

“Kiss a corpse?” Gemma exclaimed.

“Don’t. He’s not dead,” Louis protested. He could feel his body shaking, this had to work.

“While your hand’s on fire, maybe?” Niall continued easily. “Maybe try breathing into his mouth when you kiss him as well?”

Zayn stared at Niall, who offered a cheeky smile, completely juxtaposing the atmosphere as they were also still next to the infernal pillar of ash.

Louis bent down and kissed Harry’s unresponsive lips and breathed out slowly. He did not know what he was doing, but he had to do something. Anything than accept that what he had wanted and dreamed of had been taken from him so suddenly once more.

As the man without hands leant back to inhale once more, Harry let out a small cough. And Louis’ hands melted off.

*

That night from within their cottage, Louis was summoning different drinks and potions for Harry to drink. Liam was sleeping in one of the guest rooms, still healing from the paralyzing shocks sent through his system. Different sized orbs of fire floating around the kitchen, illuminating the room filled with people who loved him. The smell of Harry’s stew floated through the air, along with Louis’ fussing to the witch insisting _he was fine_ even though he had died just hours earlier.

Finally at his wit’s end, Harry plopped Louis into a seat beside Gemma, who was eager to learn more about Louis’ new powers. Little did the witch know what would ensue.

“That’s fucking bullshit!” Gemma yelled. “You shouldn’t have to go through enough trauma to reach a threshold high enough for the gods to judge that you have enough emotions for this power!” 

Gemma’s, though well-intended, rant was undermined by the fact that Niall kept trying to pass his hand through the orb beside her throughout. Causing her yelling to be undercut with tiny exclamations of “ _ow_ ” and “ _whoopsie_ ”.

Zayn watched on, his eyes flicking back and forth like a cat, as he drolled, “He told you so that your power was feeling really hard, didn’t he.” He returned Louis’ look with a cheeky smile. “I’m glad you know what you are now at least.”

Everyone turned towards the Seelie at that, causing him to sigh, “Wait, you really don’t know what you are? Still?” Zayn glared up at the sky at their silence. “Sy Mon probably mentioned your new Mother multiple times until he started saying ‘ _the_ Mother’ was watching you right?” Zayn looked at everyone with an incredulous look on his face from the lack of response, before finally sighing. “You’re a part of the sun. Obviously.”

“How is that fucking obvious?” Gemma yelled.

“The sun’s hot,” Zayn said before walking away with a smirk on his face.


	7. Epilogue

Once upon a time, in a world quite like this one, there was a boy without hands. The boy loved with his whole heart, lost with his whole heart, and drew those who loved him unconditionally. 

But that’s not the whole story, is it?

*

Once upon a time, the sun who warms us with its love watched a land cry out in pain because of hypocrisy. It watched as those down below who were less unfortunate were punished by those who committed infernal deeds and who hid behind their thrones of religious pageantry. The sun saw how the gods squabbled over how to help without getting _directly_ involved, humans were all so messy and so on. The only way the sun could think of a way to help was by giving a tiny drop of itself to that land—

Hmm, you could make a religion out of that.

*

Once upon a time, or we could say about half a century ago, a sun elf met a boy who shone far brighter than the prophecies could describe. That sun elf bothered an amazingly attractive Seelie into helping the boy, and in return got the greatest gift in the world. Freedom. But also the gift of life, although he didn’t think the boy was _directly_ involved with that—

“Da-a-ad,” the one syllable word became three through the magic of a child. “I’m never going to find out what happens in the end if you can’t even start the story!”

Niall, the King of the Sun Elves, looked down at his son who he had almost forgotten about while reliving the memories from the past century. 

“Honey? If we don’t leave now we’ll be late,” Zayn, the King Consort of the Sun Elves and Ambassador of the Seelie court, fiddled with the golden scarf wrapped around his head. It was a wedding present from Louis, who had still hung onto the fabric after his first marriage.

“I still don’t know why I can’t go to Seelie ball. I’m already 10, that’s two digits!” Fitzgerald, or Fizzy, pouted under the golden sheets of his room. “Grizabel said _everyone’s_ going to be there!”

Zayn chuckled, “She meant all the other ambassadors and rulers from all the kingdoms on the Continent.”

“Still!” Fizzy mustered the exclamation through a wide yawn.

Zayn threw a shawl over Niall as he pulled him from the darkened room and into the stairwell, “Be good!”

Due to Zayn’s manhandling and badgering they made it to the Seelie Court in record time. The outside gardens were alight with, literal, fairy lights illuminating the pathways for ambassadors from lands across the Continent. 

Standing right inside of the Court was their favorite witch leader, his long curls were tied up by a green shawl embroidered with the trees of his home. Harry had not aged a bit, something Zayn had attributed to the fact that he was, you know, brought back to life by the sun. The Forests had chaotically grown, as its population did, due to the success of Harry’s candle shop and inn. Advertising through word of mouth was truly powerful, and stories of Harry’s wish fulfilment candles’ power had truly spread. It had only made sense to make Harry and Louis the leaders of the Forest, although this was their first time attending a Council meeting.

“Niall! Zayn!” 

Liam had remained unmarried, although he had taken in a ward. Bera, the youngest princess of pre-Solace had been adopted by the man after being locked away for years due to her magical prowess.

It seemed the king never got over his love for Louis, and who could blame him? Niall was glad he came out unscathed from his adventures with the man. Although the sun elf king supposed he owed a life debt to Louis for his quest resulting in Zayn finally giving him a chance to woo him.

After countless days on a sky pirate ship and sharing a pegasus’ back, Zayn had finally opened up to his advances. It turned out just holding him with no ulterior motive on a gravity-defying ship could truly cause two magical beings to fall in love. Anything beyond that though was something that Zayn could not stomach, which Niall was more than happy with. They had ended up using Zayn’s younger sister as a surrogate for Niall’s heir after he was crowned king of the sun elf court.

“Order!” Zayn’s sister, Doniya the Seelie Queen, stood at the mount of the platform where two rows of tables intersected. Zayn had never wanted to be in charge of the Seelie Court, something that was apparent by his frequent visits to help out Louis. He’d been more than happy to marry Niall and have his main duties consist of eating grapes and meeting with ambassadors of faraway lands.

“It’s been a 100 years since our magical lands have been strong-armed by the facetious Infernal beings who took over Avalon and renamed it _Solace_.” Doniya sneered at the name of the land. “The magical community did not know what to do against their propaganda and lies. All we did was foolishly fret until we were approached by prophets of every denomination foretelling a boy who could completely turn the tide either way.”

The Seelie Queen ushered on a man who stood on the platform with her. Some younger beings whispered among themselves at the fact that the Queen was sharing the stage with someone who looked human. 

Yet the man standing there looked nonplussed. Gone were the pastel robes with embroidered fine gold, that Niall remembered Liam dressed him up in. He was instead dressed in a dark blue tunic embroidered with the same trees as Harry’s scarf. Louis’ hair had been made up for the special occasion and was swirled up into a quiff, the caramel highlights from living in the wilderness lit up his skin. He wasn’t wearing any prosthetics or anything on his stumps and they were crossed in front of him casually. 

“This boy has saved our homes and has made the Continent safe for us once again. Which is why I am offering him a place in my Court as my royal advisor.” Doniya finished her proclamation with a proud smile, certain in the response she would receive.

And it was true, an offer to join the Seelie Court would be a dream come true to any of the ambassadors and royals in the audience. Yet Louis simply bit down a smile and looked down. “I appreciate the offer, Doniya,” Louis looked out for a specific face in the crowd, “but I have to decline. Right now I am content expanding the Forests and living with my husband.” In order to not offend the Seelie Queen, he hastily continued, “But I will be sure to visit the Court regularly. You and the Court will soon tire of my face.”

Queen Doniya let out a tinkle of a laugh, relieving the building tension among the Court, “I am sure you will keep us all on our toes. Let the ball begin!” Soft light twinkled along the ceiling, illuminating the vines and flora strewn from the rafters. 

As the orchestra started a waltz, Harry approached the platform where Louis was still standing alone, “May I have this dance?”

Louis let out a bashful giggle, a stump pressed to his lips, “Of course, you may.”

“I really should have never been surprised that you were the sun, my love,” Harry whispered in Louis’ ear. “You illuminate this room like no other.”

“You’re so silly, baby” Louis laughed. “But can we go home now?”

“What?” Harry leant back in fake shock. “You don’t want to stay for your countless political fans?”

Louis rolled his eyes, “All they want to do is fall over themselves thanking me while staring at my lack of hands.” Louis waved one of his arms, “I’m not sure whether they are more scandalized that a disabled man saved their magical behinds or the fact that I don’t care what they think.”

Harry snorted and pulled them away from where he could see a group of politicians itching to eavesdrop on their conversation, “I suppose this would be a good chance to sneak away.”

“Yes!” Louis pumped one of his stumps. “Can’t wait to have you inside me, like, yesterday.”

Harry hummed as they met for a quick peck, “I love you, you minx. Let’s go before you start a war.” 

And they lived with their hearts and stomachs full for the rest of their days, and really who can ask for more?

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr @slytherinzouis and twitter @thewizardofgays! Please visit and give me any ideas if you want to see more of this world or just want to chat! <3
> 
> This fic has meant a lot to me, I've put my heart, blood, and sweat into it. Thank you so much for reading. <3


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